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FOR ALL GRADES OF St

By YOHN W.
A complete Series ‘of Music Readers

CHT re Ie,

aaa: au mer wwe "Me CaO
ay oy

THE

YOUNG FOLKS’ LIBRARY

FOR SCHOOL AND HOME.
EDITED BY

LARKIN DUNTON, LL.D.,

HEAD MASTER OF THE BOSTON NORMAL SCHOOL.

VOLUME VIII.

THE

YOUNG FOLKS’ LIBRARY.

Edited by LARKIN DUNTON, LL.D.,

HEAD MASTER OF THE BOSTON NORMAL SCHOOL,

[)PEISRED to supplement the ordinary school reading-books with valu-

able practice in reading, and at the same time to reénforce the instruc-
tion in special lines of school study with useful information and choice
selections from the best literature.

Stories of Child Life.

Vol. 1. - Book IL—AT HOME. - - - - 24 cts.

Vol. 2. - Book II.—AT PLAY. - - - - 30 cts.
Vol. 3. - Book III.—IN THE COUNTRY. - - - 36 cts.
Vol. 4. - Book IV.—AT SCHOOL. - = = 42cts.

The World and its People.

Vol. 5. - Book I.—FIRST LESSONS. - + — 36cts.
Vol. 6. - Book II.—GLIMPSES OF THE WORLD. 36 cts.
Vol. 7. - Book III.—-OUR OWN COUNTRY. - socts.
Vol. 8 - Book IV.—OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 60 cts.

Other Volumes will follow at frequent intervals.

a
=

THE

ARY, WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

. Book IV.

oks with valu- ‘
oer Hered OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

nm and choice
BY
Pe

FANNY E. COE.

- 24 cts.
7 30 cts EDITED BY
- * 36 cts. ‘ , 1 7
: ‘|é LARKIN DUNTON, LL.D.,
- 42 cts. *
HEAD MASTER OF THE BOSTON NORMAL SCHOOL,
rev OF CONG
Qe vera, IRS.
- 36 cts. 2 Or a “~) /
{ AUG Sl 189]

D. 36 cts. 2 y Y,

whanke Lm
- 50 cts. me e
RS. 60 cts. iS

SILVER, BURDETT & CO., PUBLISHERS,
New York... BOSTON... . Cucago.
1891.

CopyRiant, 1891, ‘
By SILVER, BURDETT & CO.

TYPOGRAPHY BY J. 8. Cusnina & Co., Boston,

PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, BosTON,.

fia. ter, pez alee.

PUBLISHERS’ ANNOUNCEMENT.

Ir is now conceded by all educators that school in-
struction should be supplemented by reading matter suit-
able for use by the pupil both in the school and in the
home. Whoever looks for such reading, however, must
be struck at first with the abundance of what is offered
to schools and parents, and then with its lack of sys-
tematic arrangement, and its consequent ill adaptation to
the needs of young people.

It is for the purpose of supplying this defect, that
the publishers have decided to issue a series of volumes,
under the general title of the Youna Fe.xs’ Lispnary
FoR ScuooLt AND Home.

These books are intended to meet the needs of all
children and youth of school age; from those who have
just mastered their first primer, to those who are about
to finish the high school course. Some of the volumes
will supplement the ordinary school readers, as a means
of teaching reading; some will reénforce the instruction

in geography, history, biography, and natural science;
5

6 PUBLISHERS’ ANNOUNCEMENT.

am
while others will be specially designed to cultivate a
taste for good literature. All will serve to develop
power in the use of the mother tongue.

The matter for the various volumes will be so care-
fully selected and so judiciously graded, that the various
volumes will be adapted to the needs and capacities of
ul for whom they are designed; while their literary
merit, it is hoped, will be sufficient to make them de-
serve a place upon the shelves of any well selected
collection of juvenile works.

Each volume of the Youne Forks’ Library will be
prepared by some one of our ablest writers for young
people, and all will be carefully edited by Larkin Dun-
ton, LL.D., Head Master of the Boston Normal School.

The publishers intend to make this Liprary at once
attractive and instructive; they therefore commend these
volumes, with cc..idence, to teachers, parents, and all
others who are charged with the duty of directing the

edneation of the young.
SILVER, BURDETT & CO.

tivate a

develop

so care-
» various
cities of
literary
them de-

selected

will be
yr young
in Dun-
| School.
at once
nd these
and all

ting the

'& CO.

PREFACE.

Tus book is designed to be read, either at school or at
home, in connection with the systematic study of America.
It may be used as a preparation for such study, as a means
of reénforcing the instruction while it is going on, or as
a means of creating clearer knowledge of and deeper
interest in the countries already studied.

When pupils have become fairly familiar with the geog-
raphy of the United States, their attention should be
directed to the homes of our American neighbors, —
Canada, Mexico, Central America, and South America.
The study of these countries should constitute the intro-
duction to the study of foreign geography. Even in
these countries, the plants, animals, people, and _ the
characteristics of life, both rural and in the city, are
all new. Hence, surprise and. delight should attend the
reading of the first book pertaining to these countries.
This, it is hoped, will be the result of reading this little
book.

Great pains has been taken to secure accuracy of state-

ment in regard to matters of fact, and, at the same time,
7

8 PREFACE.

—-t—

to make the word pictures so vivid as to kindle the
imagination of the pupil, and thus to put him into sym-
pathy with the people of whom he reads. ‘he book
deals with live men more than with the dead earth.
Teachers and parents are advised to insist upon having
the children read with a large wall map or an atlas con-
stantly before them. The pictures of life and _ places,
which are formed, will then be connected with the coun-
tries where the life really exists. By this means a
beginning will be made in forming a conception of the

world as it is.
LARKIN DUNTON.
Boston, June 30, 1891. ‘

» kindle the
im into sym-
The book
id earth.
upon having

an atlas con- CHAPTER

and places, I.

ith the coun-
lis means a
ption of the

N DUNTON.

XVII.

XIX.

XVIII.

CONTENTS.

_——too—

CANADA,

A Brrp’s-Eye View or CANADA .

THE FisnHerMAn’s Lire ere a os

Pictures or New Brunswick AND Nova
Scortra. ee ee ee

THE IsLhanp Crry or CANADA.

WINTER IN CANADA

THrRouGu tHe Great LAKES

Down tHE St. LAWRENCE

Quant OLD QueBEC :

Frencu Canavan Farm Lire

THE LuMBERMAN’s LIFE.

THE CANADIAN PRAIRIE .

BEYoND THE Rocky Mountains .

MEXICO.

A Brrp’s-Eve View or Mexico .
By Ratt to tHe City or Mexico
In THE CAPITAL . eet
Down nto tH: Hot LAnps

CENTRAL AMERICA.

Tue Tiny Rervusuics or Nortu AMERICA.

SOUTH AMERICA.

A Brrp’s-Eve View or Sout AMERICA .
THe Great Repusuic or THE Soutu .

108
120
131
143

151
154
166
181

197

219
222

10 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

CHAPTER

XX. In tue Vautiry or tue LA PLATA. . .

XXI. Bryonp THE ANDES

XXII. Peru anp Bontyta. ;
XXIII. In Equapor anp CoLUMBIA

XXIV. VENEZUELA AND GUIANA

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

—~1r——

NIAGARA... «6 + ew ee
MonrrREAL . . . ee ee
Tue Ick PAuAcE . . . .

A TospoGcGAN SPILL... .

PARLIAMENT Buinpines, OTrawa,

Tur City Hatt, WINNEPEG .
Tuer DoveLtas PINE... .
Mount PorocaTAPFTL . . .
A Patient Burro ... .
Tue CATHEDRAL OF MEXIco .

Tue Nationa, Pauacr, Mexico

Tue CastLE oF CHAPULTEPEC

A Native RestpENcE In THE Hot

Tur City or VERA Cruz. .
Manocany Locs .... -;
Tue WATER CARRIER . . .
An ApospeE House. ... .

Ture Royat Pautms, Rio JANEIRO

LANDING Steps AT BAHIA .
Bay or Rio JANEIRO . . .

A RAILRoAD BRIDGE IN CHILE .
Tue PLAZA OF VALPARAISO .
Street Scene IN LIMA. . .

CANADA

JOUNTRY . .

PAGE
249
268
287
303
313

pS rman

. 185

. 146
. 150
. 160
. 168
. . 17
. . 175
_ . 190
. . 192
. . 196
. . 207

. 215
. . 218

. 239

. 241
. . 274
. . 283

. 295

52
65

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS,

CANADA.

4 oer nese

‘STIV4 VYVOVIN 40 A3IA

VIEW OF NIAGARA FALLS.

caren eR

OUR AMERICAN NEIGIBORS.
CANADA.

CHAPTER I.
A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF CANADA.

North of the United States liés a country very nearly
as large as our own. It belongs to Great Britain, and
is known as the Dominion of Canada.

It extends from the northern boundary of the United
States northward to the Arctic Ocean, and stretches, in
an easterly and westerly direction, from the Atlantic
Ocean to the Pacific. The Atlantic coast of Canada is
so far from the Pacific coast, that when the children
in Halifax are rushing out of school at twelve o’clock,
the children of New Westminster, in British Columbia,
are eating their early seven o’clock breakfast.

The coast of Canada is much indented, and is bordered
with many islands. With the exception of the western
coast of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, every coast of Canada
is bare and thinly settled. Hudson Bay is the largest
indentation, and may be said to divide the country into
two regions, — the older and more thickly settled region
lying to the east, and the newer and more thinly settled
region lying to the west.

14 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-oo—

The greater part of the Dominion of Canada consists
of a vast, level plain, which lies between two bordering
ranges of mountains. The Laurentian Mountains, very
little more than five thousand feet in height, are on the
east. A plateau four thousand feet in height, across
which the Rocky Mountains and other parallel ranges
run from north to south, is the western boundary of
the plain.

The central plain of Canada has two slopes, — one
toward the Arctic Ocean and the other toward Hudson
Bay. The Arctic slope occupies the northern half of
the plain, and the Hudson Bay slope the southern and
eastern sections. Thee Mackenzie River, with its bare
and desolate shores, drains the Arctic slope. The Sas-
katchewan River, with its continuation, the Nelson, is
the largest river in the Hudson Bay system.

Down the eastward slopes of the Laurentian’ Moun-
tains flow the smaller rivers of the St. Lawrence system.
West of the Rocky Mountains are the rivers of the
Pacific slope.

If we should follow the forty-ninth parallel of latitude
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, we should pass through
five regions of the country. First, would come the
provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, where
fishing smacks ride at anchor in the harbors, and where
fish and nets are seen drying along the beaches. This
is the great fishing district of the country. Then fol-
lows the farming district, along the lower part of the
river St. Lawrence.

Thirdly, we enter the great forests of Canada, which
extend westerly for a thousand miles. Formerly there

la consists
bordering
tains, very
are on the
rht, across
lel ranges
undary of

pes, — one
‘d Hudson
rm half of
thern and
h its bare

The Sas-
Nelson, is

ian’ Moun-
ce system.
ars of the

of latitude
ss through
come the
tia, where
and where
hes. This
Then fol-
art of the

ada, which
1erly there

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 15

~ ee

was no sound of human labor to be heard in this vast
solitude, but now the perfect hush is broken in all direc-
tions by the blows of the lumberman’s axe and the buzz
of his saw.

Succeeding the forest is the prairie, a great expanse
of level and rolling land, stretching fifteen hundred
miles away to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
Last of all comes a stretch of six hundred miles of
mountains and plateaus, which make up the greater
part of British Columbia.

The most important cities of Canada are on the Great
Lakes and the St. Lawrence River. They are nearly all
situated in the large V-like peninsula which Canada
thrusts southward into the United States.

Labrador and that part of the Northwest Territory
which lies north of Peace River are cold and dreary
regions with scanty vegetation. Fur-bearing animals
abound; and the single production is furs, which are
collected by the trappers with great toil and patience.

CHAPTER II.
THE FISHERMAN’S LIFE.

Newfoundland may be called the province of the fish-
erman ; because the census showed some years ago that
fully one-half of the population was engaged in catching
fish, and in salting or otherwise preparing them for the
market. The fisheries form a chief source of wealth to

|
|
i

16 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—~-o-o—

the other provinces of Canada on the Atlantic coast, —
to New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Cape Breton Island,
and Prince Edward Island.

The fisheries of these provinces may be divided into
the in-shore fisheries and the deep-sea fisheries. The
shore fisherman leads a very easy, safe life, when com-
pared with the deep-sea fisherman. He rarely sails his
two-masted little schooner more than three miles from
shore. He is always within easy reach of the harbors ;
and if one of those sudden storms should arise, which
are very frequent in this part of the Atlantic, he can
quickly find a place of safety.

Cod and herring are most abundant in the in-shore
waters. Formerly mackerel were plentiful; but fifty
years ago they left the Dominion seas, and have not
since returned. Probably they found better feeding
grounds somewhere else. You see these fish are very
intelligent. Where the little fish upon which they feed
go, there they follow. Sometimes the cod are most
abundant on the east coast of Newfoundland, sometimes
on the west. For these great shoals of cod are swayed
from east to west by the movements of a beautiful little
fish no larger than your hand. This is the caplin.

Early in June shoals of caplin begin to enter the har-
bors and rivers of Newfoundland and the other prov-
inces. The cod leave the colder waters of the deep sea,
and follow the caplin to the shallow, warmer water of -
the shore. Then for the next five months the fishermen
are busy.

During June and July the caplin are used for bait;
but when they have returned to the sea, the fishermen

tlantic coast, —
Breton Island,

be divided into
fisheries. The
life, when com-
rarely sails his
hree miles from
of the harbors ;
uld arise, which
Atlantic, he can

, in the in-shore
itiful ; but fifty
3, and have not
| better feeding
se fish are very
which they feed
1e cod are most
lland, sometimes
cod are swayed
a beautiful little
the caplin.
to enter the har-
the other prov-
s of the deep sea,

warmer water of -

ths the fishermen

re used for bait;
ea, the fishermen

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 17

—+ ee

are at no loss, for shoals of squid have come to take the
place of the caplin, You remember the squid, do you
not? He is an ugly, spotted creature, with many long,
squirming arms, and great, horrible, staring es. He is
wv choice morsel to the cod, however, which feasts as
greedily upon him as he did a month before upon the
graceful little caplin. When the squid fail to supply bait,
the herring are used; and then, with their return to the
ocean at the end of October, the in-shore cod fishing
closes.

The deep-sea fisherman rather despises the shore fish-
erman. Ie looks down upon his easy, summer work ;
for he himself, in the depths of winter, fishes for cod
and halibut far away on the Banks of Newfoundland.
The Banks, as they are called, are shallow places in the
ocean where the bed of the sea rises, in places, to within
ninety feet of its surface.

They have been hundreds and probably thousands of
years in forming. Two mighty agents, the Arctic Cur-
rent and the Gulf Stream, have united to construct
these Banks, which have really become the treasury of
the Canadian fisherman. The Arctic Current flows
down from icy Baffin’s Bay, past the chilly shores of
Labrador and the east coast of Newfoundland. South-
east of Newfoundland it meets the warm Gulf Stream,
whose sparkling blue waters come dancing up from the
far south, — from the tropical Gulf of Mexico and the
shores of balmy Florida.

The Gulf Stream bears along, in solution, innumer-
able tiny atoms of mud, which the Mississippi River
has carried into the Gulf of Mexico. In the chill shock

18 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

0-0

of meeting the Arctic Current, this fine mud is deposited
on the ocean bed; for it is only a warm current which
can varry along much matter in solution, and the Gulf
Stream is now many degrees colder than when it set out
from the sunny Gulf on its northward journey.

leebergs drift southward on the Aretic Current. An
iceberg is a huge mass, consisting not only of ice, but
also of fragments of earth and stone. The Gulf Stream
melts the ieebergs, and the earthy matter sinks into the
depth of the sea.

Millions of tiny, shelled animals float in the two
currents ; and when these little animals die, their shells
sink and help to build up the rising bed of the ocean.

Ages and ages of such depositions have raised the
ocean bed in this place, until now it is only from one
hundred to five hundred feet below the level of the sea.

Then hosts of purple jellyfish, scaly starfish, delicate
sea anemones, and clumsy mussels, clams, and oysters
come to make their home on the rocks in this shallow
part of the sea. Their presence attracts the cod, hali-
but, and other fish; diving birds are drawn to the spot
to feast upon the fish ; and finally, Canadian, American,
and French fishermen come to contest the ground with
the wild birds. Thus the Banks have become what
they are at the present day.

They stretch three hundred miles southeasterly into
the open Atlantic, and are known by different names.
Grand Bank and Georges Bank are perhaps the most

important. Others are Sable Island Bank, Green Bank, ©

and Saint Peter’s Bank.
The vessel of the deep-sea fisherman, or banker, as

ace

is deposited
rrent which
d the Gulf
n it set out
py.

irrent. An
1 of ice, but
qulf Stream
nks into the

in the two
_ their shells
she ocean.

» raised the
ly from one
1 of the sea.
ish, delicate
and oysters
this shallow
he cod, hali-
1 to the spot
1, American,
ground with
ecome what

easterly into
arent names.
ps the most

Green Bank, —

r banker, as

halal

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 19

—e oo

he is called, differs from the vessel of the in-shore fisher-
man in having a deck. Often the vessel is built in
three compartments. The central compartment is called
the well, because it is nearly filled with water, which
enters through auger-holes in the bottom of the schooner.
The fish which are caught and seem likely to live, are
placed in this well and remain there swimming about
in their dark, cool, watery prison all the time that the
vessel is on the Banks.

The little craft is well supplied with ice, bait, and
the best provisions the market affords. Many tons of
ice are necessary even in winter; for, at the close of the
day, all the fish not placed in the well on being taken
from the water must be packed in ice in order to
preserve them.

Sometimes “salt-trips” are made, and then salt is
earried in the place of ice, and the fish are salted down,
or cured, as the men say. The usual bait is whelks,
or snails. One smack carries about eight hundred gal-
lons of bait. The whelks are kept in nets in the well
until wanted. Then they are drawn out, the hard shells
are broken, and the hooks baited with the tough, fleshy
animals.

You know, on board a man-of-war or a merchantman,
the captain is king. He is an absolute monarch, a Czar.
He has his cabin in the best part of the ship, and none
of the crew dare address him without permission. But
it is very different on a tishing vessel. This little float-
ing world is a republic of the kind that the French
strove for, when they chose, as their watchwords, liberty,
fraternity, and equality. The captain and his crew are

20 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

very friendly. They bunk together in the same cabin;
they work together at the hand lines or long lines ; and
they all share in the profits. The crew receive half
the price of the fish they catch; the captain, a larger
share than any of the crew. Thus a common interest
binds them together and forces them to maintain good
discipline on board,

Next to the captain or skipper, the most important
man is the cook, or doctor, as he is called. He has to
prepare the four or five meals required by the men;
and, next to the captain, he receives the largest share
of the profits. Oftentimes many relations will ship
together for the Banks ; and, in such circumstances, if
the vessel is lost, great sorrow and suffering are brought
to the family, as all the strong and able-bodied men
have been taken from its support.

When a schooner reaches the Banks, the crew must
begin work at once, if the weather is at all suitable.
The reason for this haste is that the bait will keep fresh
for only ten or twelve days. After that time the fish
will refuse it. First the anchors are thrown overboard,
and then the crew bait the hooks and play out the hand
lines. In hand fishing, each man keeps an account of
the number of fish he catches by cutting out the tongues.
At the close of the day he presents these tongues to the
skipper, who credits him with the proper number of
fish.

There is a strong spirit of rivalry among the vessels
of the fishing fleet. Each vessel tries to outdo the
others by catching the greatest number of fish, and so
to win for its captain the title of “high-line.” I think

me cabin;
ines; and
ceive half
1, a larger
n interest
‘tain good

important
He has to
the men;
gest share
will ship
stances, if
re brought
odied men

crew must
11 suitable.
keep fresh
ne the fish
overboard,
it the hand
account of
he tongues.
rues to the
number of

the vessels
outdo the
ish, and so

” I think

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 91

many of those rough men would rather gain that hon-
ored title than become governor general of Canada,
Some years ago the “ high-line” of the haddock fleet, in
four months landed eight hundred thousand fish, valued
at twenty-four thousand dollars. After all expenses
had been paid, his fourteen brave men, who had dared
almost untold dangers, received a litule over three hun-
dred dollars apiece.

Sometimes many of the fleet are able to weigh anchor
for home at the same time. It is a pretty sight to see so
many vessels under a freshening breeze. ploughing away
to the northward. The hearts of the men are glad, both
because they have escaped the many perils of the Banks,
and because they have been unusually successful, as
their plentiful store of cod and halibut in the well bears
testimony.

As they enter the harbor, one of the crew descends
into the well and begins throwing the cod upon deck.
They are very hard to catch. They seem to guess what
awaits them on deck, and struggle, and slip, and glide
through the man’s clutching hands. However, they
are all in turn delivered to the executioner, who grasps
each cod back of the head, and, by a few well-directed
blows with a short club, kills the fish at once.

They are then packed and sent to market, where they
bring a high price as “live cod.” They are so called,
because they are brought home aiive ; and they are much
fresher than the cod which the tishermen themselves
pack on ice out on the Banks.

If it only were possible to give you an idea of the
perils of this kind of life! The Banks are the part of

oe A NINN TTT

22 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

the North Atlantic most dangerous to the great ocean
steamers. How much more dangerous to the little fish-
ing boat, and to the frail dory!

The two great ocean currents, the warm and the cold,
produce fogs by their meeting. These fogs arise sud-
denly, sometimes with scarcely a moment's warning.
Then, for days and weeks, there are violent gales of
wind, which cause the high seas for which this part of
the ocean is equally famed and dreaded.

One of the vessels of the fleet discovers a large shoal
of fish. The other boats anchor close by, although it
is not safe for many vessels to be near one another. If
a sudden gale arises, each boat plays out more of its
hawser, hoping, praying, that the anchor may hold. If
not, the result is certain destruction to them, and to the
vessels to leeward; as the wind would hurl the drifting
vessel against the others near by, and all would sink
together.

Perhaps the icy wind blows severa’ of the smacks
over on their sides, and the men, clinging in the tattered
rigging, ride out the gale. Each wave that breaks over
the icy deck carries away a man. With frozen hands,
some of the crew feebly cling to the ropes; the next
swell of the sea plunges them into the depths of the
ocean. <A brother, a father, or a son drowns before the
faces of his kindred, separated from them by only a few
yards. But alas, those yards are made up of white,
mountainous billows, and green, yawning gulfs! And
there is no hand to save.

One way in which the cod are taken is by the long
line, or trawl. The trawl consists of a line from six to

hid icoete cA

ib we Gis leek

great ocean
he little fish-

and the cold,
os arise sud-
it’s warning.
lent gales of
this part of

a large shoal
, although it
another. If
| more of its
nay hold. If
m, and to the
1 the drifting
1 would sink

f the smacks
1 the tattered
t breaks over
frozen hands,
yes; the next
lepths of the
ns before the
by only a few
up of white,
guifs! And

3 by the long
e from six to

ee CE ts

]
%
ry
i
4
i
j

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 23

twelve thousand feet in length, with lines hanging from
it from three to six feet long and three feet apart.
So, as each of these short lines bears a hook, there are,
on an average, three thousand hooks which must be
baited before the trawl can be set up.

In the cod fishery, six trawls are generally set at once
—one at the bow, one at the stern, two on the starboard
or right side of the vessel, and two on her port or left
side. The trawl is kept in position by buoys.

When the trawl is to be hauled, or brought back to
the vessel, two men are sent out in a dory to gather up
the line and collect the fish. Dories are sent out in all
degrees of bad weather, and, owing to the sudden fogs
and storms, often are never heard of again. Yet the
men who are detailed for this dangerous service, never
refuse nor complain. They realize that they must take
their chances for life or death with the rest.

Frequently two men will be hauling in the trawl and
rejoicing over the quantity of cod taken, when suddenly
the fog shuts down around them, and the familiar
schooner, their ocean home, is out of sight. They do
not fear, for they have a compass. They know the ves-
sel was east of them, and so, with high hopes, they pull
hard to the eastward, each moment expecting to see the
tall masts rising through the mist. But, poor men! the
harder they pull, the faster they are gong away from
safety and from all hopes of seeing home and children
again; for, unknown to them, the wind and current
have changed, and instead of the vessel lying to the east,
she is far to the west, and every stroke is taking them
farther away from her.

24 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_——oo

If they could only hear her fog bell! But the ciuel
wind bears its sound away from them. They would
stand more chance of riding out the gale, if they would
throw the heavy trawl and fish overboard. But the true
Banker rarely does this.

And now a heavy sea overturns the boat; the precious
fish and valuable trawl are lost; and the poor fishermen
can only cling to the life line on the bottom of the float-
ing dory, and wait for the fog to lift. Sometimes the
fogs last for weeks, and then the condition of the men
is hopeless. Death is a mercy when it comes.

A third danger to which the fishermen are exposed
is that of being run down by ocean ships and steamers.
The Banks lie directly in their path, and, although the
schooner may have her red port light and her green
starboard light trimmed and burning brightly, and may
have her mournful fog horn sounding steadily, yet, so
dense are the fogs, and so shrill is the whistle of the
wind on these terrible Banks, that the little craft may
be cut through by the steel prows of a steamer, while
those on board the larger vessel are all unconscious of
the disaster. Passengers in the steamer sleep quietly,
while the crew of the fishing smack are battling with
and sinking in the great waves, which only rock the
passengers themselves into deeper slumber.

The ocean steamers are required by law to run at half
speed during foggy weather; but, owing to the ambi-
tion of the captains to cross the Atlantic in the fewest
number of days possible, this law is not always obeyed.
Often the ship pauses in her course and sends out a
boat to pick up the struggling men; but sometimes she
speeds away, leaving them to their fate.

iA SE a la. 0

|
|

the ciuel
yy would
ey would
the true

precious
isheymen
the float-
imes the
the men

exposed
steamers.
ough the
er green
and may
y, yet, so
le of the
raft may
er, while
scious of
) quietly,
ling with
rock the

in at half
the ambi-
he fewest
's obeyed.
ids out a
times she

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

bo
on

These dangers have made the Bankers what they are
— brave, hardy, and daring. And yet the spirit of the
men is wonderfully cheerful and patient. They do not
regard the sea as a dreadful foe; she is, in their minds,
a friend, who furnishes them with a source of livelihood,
and who, in all her aspects, is marvellously fascinating
and beautiful. They love their hard life and would not
exchange it for an “easy berth ashore.” Thousands of
them are lost every year. An aged fisherman is a rare
sight; the majority die before reaching middle age; but
still, so attractive is the sea, that the ranks of the fisher-
man never lack recruits.

CHAPTER III.
PICTURES OF NEW BRUNSWICK AND NOVA SCOTIA.

New Brunswick, one of the provinces of the Domin-
ion of Canada, is smaller than either Quebec or Ontario,
and larger than either Nova Scotia or the little prov-
ince of Prince Edward Island. It is shaped like the
state of Maine, and has the same rocky, indented coast.
The northern and northwestern part of New Brunswick
is quite mountainous, and many rivers, taking their
start amongst these mountains, flow in a southerly or
southeasterly direction.

The largest river is the St. John, which empties into
the Bay of Fundy. At its mouth is the city of St.
John, which is five times as large as any other city in
the province. Just at this point our series of pictures
begins.

maaan

26 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—s-o—

I want first to show you St. John Harbor, On our
right hand, as we sail slowly up the river St. John, we
see low, steep hills. On these hills is built the city of
St. John. The houses are of gray stone, red brick, or
wood painted a dark brown. Often a thick, gray mist
hangs over the town, blotting houses and streets from
sight; but to-day the sunshine has burned away the mist,
and you can plainly see the colors of the houses, the
straight streets running up and down the hills, the
jingling street cars, and the busy people.

Down by the wharves the city is busiest. Great
steamers from all parts of the world lie near the
wharves to take in their cargoes of lumber. The oppo-
site bank of the river is bordered with sawmills, whose
shrill sound can be plainly heard.

The harbor is filled with craft of every description.
Sailing vessels are on all sides of us; some moored,
with their masts rising naked and bare; others, under
clouds of white or yellow canvas, scudding hither and
thither. Here is a graceful yacht racing before the
breeze, there a clumsy wood boat pushing obstinately on
its way. Noisy red and white tugs rush madly about,
pulling great steamers or heavy black scows after them.

Drawing nearer to the wharves, we see that they are
covered with open cars laden with fragrant planks.
Bundles of these are raised on derricks, and swung
down into the hold of a great red steamer lying close at
hand. You look at the name of the vessel: “The Cadiz.”
Black-haired, swarthy men are busy on her deck. She
has come all the way from distant Spain, where the
woods have been ruthlessly destroyed, to the rich forest

On vur
John, we
2 city of
brick, or
ray mist
ets from
the mist,
uses, the
iills, the

;, Great
near the
‘he oppo-
ls, whose

scription.
; moored,
rs, under
‘ither and
efore the
nately on
ily about,
‘ter them.
t they are
t planks.
id swung
ig close at
he Cadiz.”
eck. She
where the
rich forest

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 27

—-o-o—

lands of New Brunswick. Two scows, clinging to the
side of a neighboring steamer, are shooting the lumber
in with great rapidity.

With this scene before you, and with a remembrance
of tlie line of sawmills on the north shore of the harbor,
you can readily tell what two of the chief industries of
St. John are. They are the sawing and the shipping of
lumber. The lumber comes by river from the forests
of the upper St. John.

When the tide goes out, the vessels in the slip, as
the space between the wharves is called, are aground on
thick, black mud. They appear very dejected as they
lean far to one side, their ropes hanging dark and wet,
and their canvas drooping in a melancholy way. Under
any circumstances, the slip is a very picturesque place
at low tide; but if a mist has arisen, the scene is even
ghostly. The black hulks of the vessels rise dimly
through the cloud, and the rigging is very indistinct
and shadowy. The noisy streets above are hidden in
fog, and a deep silence rests upon the slip.

Much time in St. John is passed in going up and
down hill. There are two or three streets that may be
called level, but most of them rise at quite an angle
from the water’s edge. The horse cars toil persever-
ingly up these streets, and the citizens patiently submit
to their daily joltings. It is said that one sure mark of
the citizen of St. John is his excellent digestion. For
this, people say, he has to thank the horse cars.

The sail up the St. John River will take us through
the centre of the province, and show us something of
the farms of New Brunswick.

uence TSTDs

BE ONL

AR HEMLINE EE

28 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE. :

The steamer leaves St. John in the early dawn, in
order to pass the falls above the city at a certain point
in the tide. These falls are remarkable for being re-
versible; that is, the water flows in one direction one-
half the day, and in the opposite direction during the
remainder of the day. When the tide ebbs, the river
comes over the falls. When flood tide comes, the ocean
rises, covers the falls, and flows up stream. Just be-
tween the two tides is the time that vessels seize to go
up and down the river.

The falls safely passed, we enter that part of St. John
River called the Narrows, because, as you might suppose
from the name, the precipitous banks draw close to each
other, making the stream very narrow. Far up on both
sides of the cliffs miners are at work. A sudden puff
of smoke is seen, a dull boom is heard, and then frag-
ments of rock begin to rattle down into the river. “The
men are blasting.

Presently the hills retreat, and the river valley broad-
ens during the rest of the way to Fredericton, The
land is very fertile, because the river floods all the low
lands in the spring. The farmer sets his nets in the
meadows; and when the river returns to its bed, it
leaves behind large quantities of silvery fish, which fill
the nets to bursting.

A few weeks later, the fields, over which but recently
the waters rolled, are being ploughed and planted.

So the farmer’s field on the St. John yields two crops
—one crop of fish, the other crop of grain and vege-
tables. When such are the advantages of farm life on
the river, it is no wonder that every hillock is crowned

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 29
oe

wn, in with a white farm-house, nestled amid gnarled old apple-
n point trees, with the sweeping boughs of an elm shading the
ing re- roof.
on one- 3 Further up the river, we notice that the shores are
ing the edged with willows. Their roots protect the soft banks
e river i of the river, and prevent the current from washing them
e ocean ' away.
lust be- H Here the spring freshets are so strong that the region
re to go : is flooded. It becomes a Canadian Venice. Farmers go

from their houses to their barns in rowboats. ‘Teachers
t. John and children row to school across the meadows. It is
Suppose ( gay times then for the little folks, as they float about
to each over the water. Sundays, also, are enlivened by a
on both watery pilgrimage to church.
en puff And now, gazing across the breezy waters, we catch
on frag- sight of a few church-spires rising tall above the many

r. ‘The elms surrounding them. Fredericton, the capital of the

province, is at hand. The water-front is lined with
y broad- beautiful elms. Most of the principal buildings of the
n. The city do not face the river, but we can, from our boat,
the low form a general idea of their appearance and surround-
3 in the ings. The Normal School building is very fine; and so
bed, it is the new Parliament House, of freestone and gray

hich fill granite.

Fredericton is a very ambitious city. Although one-

recently fifth as large as St. John, she longs to rival her big
ad. neighbor in commercial importance. She is the centre
¥0 CFOs of the lumbering district, and is anxious to be the centre
ud vege- of the agricultural, fishing, and mining regions on the
n life on north shore. But as yet her latest ambitions have not
crowned been accomplished.

nicer

RRR” BPR

RETRO INEL BATTEN

—

80 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eee

About one hundred and forty miles above Fredericton
are the Grand Falls. Although only half as high as
Niagara, they are quite as overwhelming. This is be-
cause their surroundings are so dark and gloomy that
Niagara, by contrast, appears bright and joyous. The
St. John River narrows at this point from one quarter of
a mile to three hundred feet, and then plunges eighty
feet into a dark gorge. A suspension bridge hangs
above the river a few feet below the cataract, and there
on moonlight nights the view is beautiful.

Many legends cluster round the Grand Falls; but the
most interesting story of all has an Indian girl for the
heroine. She was of the tribe of the Melicites, who
lived in the region of the upper St. John. From a child
she had known all the windings of the river, and its
falls and cataracts, as well as you know your way home
from school. She could steer and paddle a canoe almost
as well as a young Indian brave.

The Mohawks were the deadly enemies of the Meli-
cites. The two tribes hated each other with strong,
undying, Indian hatred. Once our Indian girl was with
a small party on the upper St. John. They had left. her
home, the chief village of the Melicites, had carried
their canoes around the Grand Falls, and were well on
their way up the river, when they were captured by a
party of fierce Mohawks.

All the Melicites were put to death except our hero-
ine. She was placed in the first canoe and ordered to
conduct the captors to a safe landing-place above Grand
Falls. In the morning they would carry th . ¢s
round the falls and continue their journey.

- OOO aa as lt nc

;

\ OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. dl

4
lericton ; That was all they told her, but she could guess the
high as rest. They were dressed as warriors on the warpath,
s is be- j and their destination was her native village. There
my that q they would give no quarter. Her nearest kin would be
s. The : surprised and butchered by the wily enemies of their
arter of | tribe.
, eighty | What sad thoughts passed through her mind, as she
> hangs ; bent to her work! How fast the river banks flew by!
id there | Soon they would be at the falls! The falls! Ah? there

j lay the way by which she could save her tribe from mas-
but the i sacre. But herself? She would be lost too. Well,
for the ‘ what mattered it, if the others were saved. And so the
es, who dauntless girl steered straight for the Grand Falls.

1a child : The Mohawks were half asleep, trusting implicitly in

and its the girl whose life was in their power. They were
uy home awakened by the roar of the cataract, just too late to
e almost save themselves. The paddles were seized and plied
desperately for a moment, and then they gave them-
he Meli- selves up to their dreadful fate with the grim silence of
_ strong, the Indian brave. Mohawks, canoes, and Melicite girl,
vas with all were dashed to pieces over the falls; but never again
left-her was there a Mohawk invasion into Melicite territory.
_ carried By means of tributaries we can pass from the head-
. well on waters of the St. John to the head waters of the Resti-
red by a gouche, a river which forms part of the northern bound-
ary of New Brunswick. The natural charm of the river
our hero- is great, but to a fisherman the Restigouche is most
dered to dear, because of the large salmon that throng its waters.
re Grand Spearing salmon by torchlight is a very exciting night’s
rn: fishing.

A windless night is best for this sport, as then the

cee ALAA, TERE ERE

sil Aaa ie

82 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—o-e--—

water is unruffled and clear. The fisherman stands in
the bow of the boat gazing earnestly down upon the
river-bed. If he sees a fi’, he thrusts his forked spear
into it, and lands it in the boat. ‘The work is silent but
intensely exciting. Every object on the shore is illu-
minated by the torch; that night bird, the owl, hoots
dismally overhead; the paddle dips silently into the
water; and the fisherman, his spear poised carefully,
keenly watches the gleaming river bed.

Suddenly there is a dart, and a glittering salmon is
fixed and held tightly by the cruel jaws of the spear.
He weighs at least eight pounds, and when cooked will
make a delicious meal.

Half an hour’s inaction on the part of the fisherman
follows; then comes a quick dart, succeeded by an im-
patient exclamation. The fish has taken alarm. A few
motu moments of silence, and then a fine whitefish is
brought up. So the sport goes on, and, after the return
to the camp, the fisherman finds it almost impossible to
sleep, the still excitement of the fishing was so great.

Perhaps, far away in the forests, is heard a low, melan-
choly cry, repeated again and again. No one knows
what it is; but the Indians say that the hunting dogs
of their beloved hero, Cote Scaurp, are wandering round
the world hunting for their master. He was once ruler
over men and beasts in the happy past. But they
began to grow quarrelsome, and at last Cote Scaurp
could bear it no longer. He sailed away over the great
lake toward the setting sun. And then, as the Indians
say, “a very strange thing came to pass. The beasts,
which until now had spoken one tongue, were no more

stands in
upon the
ked spear
silent but
ro is illu-
wl, hoots
into the
carefully,

salmon is
the spear.
voked will

fisherman
by an im-
n. A few
hitefish is
the return
possible to
o great.
ow, melan-
ne knows
nting dogs
ring round
once ruler
But they
‘te Scaurp
r the great
the Indians
‘he beasts,
re no more

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 38

eee

able to understand one another. And they fled apart,
each his own way, and never again have they met. to-
gether in council.”

Having returned to St. John, let us, in imagination,
cross the bay to the opposite blue line which marks the
Nova Scotia coast.

The Bay of Fundy stretches two great arms into
Nova Scotia. One is Annapolis Basin, and the other is
Minas Basin. Annapolis Basin is a wonderfully sunny,
cheerful spot.

Here is the paradise of cherries. People come from
far and near, from St. John, from Portland, and even
from Boston, to gather and enjoy the blackhearts and
the whitehearts. Both the cherry and the apple or-
chards are beautiful in spring; and the cottages, em-
bowered in the orchards, must be lovely homes in June,
when the delicately tinted, sweet blossoms are nodding
at the eaves and peeping in at the windows. There is
a growing trade in apples. Nova Scotia apples are in
great demand in England; and red, green, and golden
fruit are exported from here in English ships.

Minas Basin is remarkable for its high tides. It is
one of the forks or throats at the upper end of the Bay
of Fundy, into which is driven all the water that enters
at the wide mouth of the bay. The waters pile up as
the tide rushes in, and here in Minas Basin the tide
often rises to the height of sixty feet. At Halifax, on
the opposite coast of Nova Scotia, the tide rises only
seven or eight feet.

It is a curious and interesting sight to watch the rise
and fall of the tides. At ebb tide the great ships lie

2 Ee ea

84 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

oo |

high and dry at the wharves near the mouth of some
river. The river itself is a mere trickling stream.
Suddenly a roaring sound is heard; the tide turns and
rushes with mighty impulse towards the shore. The
foaming water hurries around a bend and enters the
harbor. Soon the great ships begin to rise, and pres-
ently they are afloat; while the strong sea breeze rocks
them to and fro, and whistles through their rigging.

The ebb of the tide is just as sudden. Ina few mo-
ments after the turn takes place, a great bare spot of
sand appears in the harbor, which constantly grows
larger. Many cattle have been drowned in this region,
and boys who were guarding them have been swept
away by the relentless sea.

Fifty miles south of Minas Basin, on the Atlantic
coast, is Halifax, the capital of Nova Scotia. The har-
bor can shelter a thousand ships, and is well defended
by forts. They frown down from the heights on the
shores of the harber, and from many of the islands. If
a war-ship could, by hook or by crook, slip past the forts
up to the city, she could be instantly blov » to pieces by
cannon from Fort St. George on Citadel Hill.

The hill, a low one, only about two hundred and fifty
feet in height, rises back of the city. It is crowned by
a high, rectangular, grassy mound on whose summit
floats the red and blue flag of England, with the
Union Jack. It is after you have entered the fort that
its true strength becomes known to you. Beneath the
grass work are the real walls of the fort, built of stone
and masonry, and exceedingly thick. The fort contains
many lofty, echoing passages and spacious chambers.

of some
y stream.
turns and
sree The
nters the
and pres-
eze rocks
ering.

a few mo-
re spot of
tly grows
iis region,
een swept

e Atlantic

The har-
1 defended
hts on the
slands. If
st the forts
o pieces by

xd and fifty
srowned by
se summit
, with the
he fort that
3eneath the
ilt of stone
ort contains
1ambers.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 85

Have you ever seen an ant’s nest in the pasture? It
is wv great, grassy mound, on the surface, but within, if
you should open it by means of a walking stick, you
would find innumerable, galleried chambers, the scene
of much busy life. It is just so with these forts. ‘They
are great, silent mounds ; but within are many chambers,
through which echo and re-echo the busy steps and
voices of active soldiers.

Halifax is the chief English naval station on the
Atlantic seacoast of North America. As we have seen,
it is well defended by forts, and men-of-war are continu-
ally hovering about the harbor. It is to Halifax that
vessels turn if any accident befalls them on the passage
between the New and the Old World.

CHAPTER IV.
THE ISLAND CITY OF CANADA.

Montreal, the largest city of the province of Quebec,
is finely situated. It is built on an island in the St.
Lawrence, thirty miles long by seven miles wide; and
is the point at which ocean navigation ceases, and river
and lake navigation begins. The large ocean steamers
puff their way up the St. Lawrence River a thousand
niles to unload their goods at Montreal; while numer-
ous small sailing vessels and steamers, on their way
down the great river, stop at Montreal. It is not sur-
prising then that Montreal, owing to its fine natural

36 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o—

position, should have become the largest city of all
British America.

A beautiful view of Montreal is obtained by descend-
ing the St. Lawrence in a steamboat. There are numer-
ous rapids above the city which steamboats are obliged
to “shoot.” This is dangerous work. White, foaming
waves strike the bows, and whirl away to the stern.
The vessel swerves sharply from the dangerous rocks.
The thunder of the rapids mingles with the laughter
and glee of the passengers. They know no danger; but
the captain looks sober and anxious.

The Lachine Rapids are the most perilous to pass.
As the boat approaches them, an Indian pilot, from the
village on shore, is taken on board. The captain orders
every one to remain in his place, in order that the boat may
be perfectly balanced while running this last and most
terrible gauntlet. The pilot grasps the wheel strongly ;
and down the narrow, shallow channel she flies, sharply
turning from the dark, jagged rocks. The lips and
cheeks of many a stalwart passenger are white, but the
pilot, in whose hands are so many lives, stands unmoved,
with his eyes fixed upon the curves o. the shore. If he
should once turn his eyes away, and look at the rapids
themselves, he would lose his bearings, and the steamer
would be destroyed. In a few moments the ‘apids are
passed. There is now nothing to disturb one’s enjoy-
ment of the beautiful approach to Montreal.

Far away from our entrance to the bay, is the Victoria
Bridge, which linked the shores of the St. Lawrence to-
gether thirty years ago. The river is a mile and three-
quarters wide where it is spanned by this bridge. On

city of all

yy descend-

are numer-

we obliged

te, foaming ?
the stern.
rous rocks.

ve laughter

anger; but

us to pass.
t, from the
otain orders
he boat may
¢ and most
al strongly ;
lies, sharply
e lips and
‘ite, but the
ls unmoved,
ore. If he
t the rapids
the steamer
2 rapids are
one’s enjoy-

-
~~

ste AAR

a
a

“IWAHYLNOW 4O M3IA
>
-

pee oe
ee

the Victoria
szawrence to-
e and three-

bridge. On '

sina emraemr ecient tet

38 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

account of its great length the bridge appears so low,
that travelers often ask if the funnel of the steamboat
is not to be lowered on passing under. Drawing nearer,
and seeing the great height of the structure, they smile
at their error in judgment.

Entering the harbor, the city lies spread out before
us, with its fine docks and warehouses, and the spires of
its many churches; and, in the background, is pine-clad
Mount Royal, the stately mountain that gives its name
to the noble city at its feet. The twin towers of Notre
Dame Cathedral rise conspicuous above the lesser land-
marks.

Other beautiful views of the city can be obtained from
the towers of Notre Dame, and from the summit of
Mount Royal.

This mountain, which forms the western boundary of
the town, is seven hundred feet high. There are two
ways of ascent. One is the road which starts at the
southeastern side, and winds upward in a corkscrew
fashion to the summit. The other way is by means of
numerous flights of very steep, wooden steps. Those
who take this climb arrive at the top with panting breath
and shaking knees. But the view fully repays them.

On all sides stretches an immense plain, through
which the majestic St. Lawrence rolls its blue flood.
Many green islands lie, like fallen leaves, upon its
watery surface. To the southwest is the valley of the
Ottawa, whose yellow, turbid stream joins the St. Law-
rence several miles above Montreal.

Far away are blue ranges of mountains. The Lau-
rentian Mountains skirt the northern horizon; the Green

; so low,
teamboat
9 nearer,
ley smile

it hefore
spires of
pine-clad
its name
of Notre
ser land-

ned from
immit of

indary of
are two
is at the
orkscrew
neans of
Those
ig breath
them.
through
ue flood.
upon its
y of the
St. Law-

“he Lau-

he Green

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 389

Mountains, shadowy and cloudlike, lie to the south.
Lake Champlain is visible in the distance. Fleecy
clouds float in the sky; the fresh wind fans your cheek ;
and, looking downward, you see the city at your feet,
lying between the mountain and the river. It extends
five miles along the shore, and two miles inland to the
foot of Mount Royal, and occupies a space of about eight
square miles. It is built upon terraces, which mark the
former channels of tie river.

The northern end southern ends of the city are the
poorer quarters. Here are factories, mills, workshops,
and the houses of the working men, mostly built of
wood or brick. In the centre, near the river, stand the
stately blocks of warehouses, business houses, and public
buildings. The homes of the wealthy men are in the
western part of the city, on the lower spurs of Mount
Royal.

The top of the mountain is laid out in a fine park,
which cost the city three millions of dollars. Moun-
tain Park, as it is called, abounds in beautiful trees and
shady drives, which are a favorite afternoon resort.
The park is still incomplete. It is intended to lay out
some of the grounds as gardens, and leave the rest in
its natural wild state. There are to be preserves for
game and wild animals.

On the northern side of the mountain are quarries of
limestone, the building stone of the city. Public build-
ings, warehouses, and private residences, all are built of
this beautiful gray stone, which resists the attacks of
the weather wonderfully.

About: one-third of the way up the mountain, on the

pom ccse maemo

PR ACTA On
JSR PST oo

wchaeersges to

CRORE

ESS aie ihn amt iT pe he tate ar

PS AS ES A

ase

mum

40 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eastern side, is the reservoir. Water is brought in an
open canal from the St. Lawrence, five miles above the
city, to this great artificial pond, which has been cut
from the solid rock at considerable pains and cost.

The Catholic and Protestant cemeteries occupy the
western slopes of Mount Royal. The Catholic ceme-
tery is a very interesting place to visit. Here and
there, throughout the grounds of the cemetery, are
small chapels or little grottos, that. followed in a defi-
nite order, lead to a small hill on which are placed three
crosses. Hence they form what is known as the Way
of the Crosses.

On certain feast days the chapels are open, and the
black-robed priest leads the people from one to another.
On the inner wall of each chapel is a raised carving,
which is brightly colored, and which represents some
scene from the Bible. The priest explains each picture
to the listening throng, and at last leads them to the
little hill of the three crosses, before which they pros-
trate themselves.

The graves of the dead are tenderly cared for. Here
and there may be seen, on a green, turfy mound, a plas-
ter cast of a saint, a photograph of the dead friend, or
an altar with tiny candles under a glass shade.

Have you a clear picture of Mount Royal in your
mind? Think once more of the green hill, with the
shady park on its summit; the limestone quarry on its
northern slope; the graveyards on its western slope ;
the reservoir of clear, pure water on its eastern slope;
the city at its feet. If it is al! plain before you, we will
next seek the shore of the river.

1
(
{

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 41
ht in an Generally that is the most disagreeable part of a city.
bove the Narrow, filthy streets lead between dilapidated ware-
been cut houses to the deeaying wooden piers of the harbor, and
st. these regions are frequented by the roughest class of
supy the people. But it is not so in Montreal. She stands, as
ic ceme- one writer has said, “clean to her very feet.” Her
lere and wharves, extending three miles along the river, are next
ery, are to the wharves of Liverpool in size. They are built of
in a defi- 4 limestone, and in their general plan and solidity they
ed three resemble the beautiful quays of Paris.
the Way if A truck railroad runs along the edge of the wharves,

and Montreal is able to load and unioad a vessel in less
and the ih time than any other city in the country. The street
another. bordering the river is separated from the wharves by a
carving, stone wall, which protects it during the spring freshets.
its some One side of the street is lined with solid limestone ware-
1 picture houses and business blocks. Bonsecours Church, Bonse-
n to the cours Market, and the Custom House stand on this
ley pros- street.
The harbor is a forest of masts and funnels. Here
Here are seen great, black ocean steamers ; smaller lake steam-
l, a plas- ers, painted white; and foreign ships with tall and taper-
riend, or ing masts. The most picturesque vessel is that of the
Canadian farmer. This is a somewhat clumsy barge for
in your carrying hay and wood to market. It is a flat-bottomed
vith the boat with a square bow and stern. It has but one
'y on its mast, and is rigged with large square sails.
1 slope ; The farmer unloads a part of his cargo on the wharves,
n slope ; and stands patiently by until a customer is attracted,
we will who takes either the whole load or such a portion as he

may point out. A few years ago these barges were found

42 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—e-8-e—

unloading at the central wharves of the harbor, bat in-
creasing business has now pushed them farther down
the river.

The people of Montreal are justly proud of Victoria
Bridge. It is one of the longest bridges in the world,
and, on that account, has been called the eighth wonder
of the world. It consists of a tube or square box of
iron twenty-two feet high, sixteen feet wide, and a mile
and three-quarters long. The tube is supported on
twenty-four piers of solid masonry. On the side of
each pier facing up the river, is a projection of stone
shaped like a wedge.

When the ice breaks up in the spring, the cakes of ice
from the Great Lakes as well as from the upper St. Law-
rence pass this bridge. The river bed is very steep at
Montreal, and the downward rush of the numerous
cakes of ice causes them to press with enormous force
against any obstacle in their path. On this account,
the Victoria Bridge was built with strong wedges to the
buttresses. The object of the wedges is to protect the
piers, by meeting the first shock of the descending ice,
and by dividing the cakes.

The bridge is designed only for railway trains, which
pass through the long, black tube in six minutes. The
p*ssage is so dull and cheerless that it seems to the
traveller to occupy a much longer time.

The season of the spring floods is a period of great
anxiety to the people of Montreal. The sun and rain
melt the ice, which has long kept the river silent from
shore to shore. The cakes of ice are carried down
stream until they run aground on some island. More

yor, bat in-
ther down

ff Victoria
the world,
th wonder
we box of
and a mile
ported on
he side of
n of stone

akes of ice
ar St. Law-
ry steep at
numerous
nous force
s account,
ges to the
yrotect the
nding ice,

ins, which
ites. The
ms to the

l of great
1 and rain
ilent from
‘ied down

id. More

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 43

cakes are carried down and piled above the first, until
what is known as an ice shove is formed. This is noth-
ing more than a jumble of blocks of ice, forming a huge
embankment. ‘The water, being dammed by the ice
shove, floods the lower part of the city, often causing
considerable loss to the merchants of Montreal.

It is on account of these spring freshets that the
wharves are of such solid construction, that the river
street is fortified on one side by a stone wall, and that
the freight sheds and other buildings upon the wharves
are all movable.

Sometimes, during the freshets, venturesome men
cross the St. Lawrence with a boat. In the open por-
tions of the river they row, but in crossing the shove,
they spring from the boat, and draw it over the mass of
ice. If the ice gives way beneath them, they save them-
selves by springing into the boat.

Bonsecours Market looks out on the river street. It
is a great parallelogram two stories high, built of cut
stone, and surmounted with a noticeable dome and
cupola. The provision dealers have their stalls on the
first floor; and in the basement, kitchen utensils, hard-
ware, tin, wooden and glass wares can be found. Tues-
days and Fridays are the best days for paying a visit to
the market, for then the square is thronged with country
peasants bringing their wares to the city for sale.

On the sidewalk, beneath the shadow of the market
building itself, are small booths and stalls, supported by
its stone walls. On the outer edge of the walk is an
apparently endless line of wagons, laden with farm pro-
duce. Such very queer wagons as they are! Heavy,

RET ROO SEED

ATE SEIN AA

44 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—-s-o—

unwieldy, and with an enormous quantity of woodwork
about them, they resemble the ancient hay cart. The
horses, with their noses in the heaps of hay spread before
them for their refreshment, munch drowsily, while their
owners quietly scan the passing people for a customer.

Chickens, butter, and eggs are temptingly displayed
on this brightly painted cart at our right. Opposite,
sits a fat old country woman in a broad-brimmed straw
hat. She has a store of scarfs, kerchiefs, and colored
yarns on her small counter. Here is a handsome girl
with dark hair and eyes, selling cherries. Close beside
her is a withered old crone, with a cartload of onions,
radishes, beets, and potatoes. A whole family preside
over another battered old wagon, wherein are displayed
stacks of brown bread and curiously carved cakes of
maple sugar.

Although the market place is the scene of so much life
and action, it is very quiet. Here is seen the French
gesture and the French shrug, but the high-pitched
French voice is wanting. The French Canadian peas-
ants murmur softly over their bargaining. The owners
have no fixed price for anything. They generally begin
by asking just twice the sum they expect to receive for
the article to be sold, while the purchaser as regularly
offers one-half the owner’s first price. So they haggle
in their soft, dreamy voices, each party seeking advan-
tage over the other, and each enjoying the bargaining
without thinking of the loss of time. Instead of the
rush of an American place of business, the market has
an air of repose and cheerful friendliness, delightful
to see.

woodwork
art. The
ead before
vhile their
ustomer.

displayed
Opposite,
ned straw
id colored
lsome girl
ose beside
of onions,
ly preside
displayed
l cakes of

y much life
he French
gh-pitched
dian peas-
‘he owners
‘ally begin
receive for

regularly
ley haggle
ng advan-
bargaining
ad of the
narket has
delightful

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 45

—-s-e—

Close by Bonsecours Market is Bonsecours Church,
into which the peasant often steals during market hours,
to pray before the shrine of some saint. It is a very
plain little structure, and is over two hundred years old.
A number of small, shabby booths and restaurants are
bolstered up by the walls of the church. They cling to
the venerable building as barnacles to a ship. The
interior of the church, with its colored bas-reliefs, seulp-
tures, altar, and quaint pulpit, is like the interior of the
ancient churches in Northern France.

One or two facts of history must now be given that
you may understand the state of society in the province
of Quebec. ‘This region was first settled by the French,
who built many churches, monasteries, and convents,
and lived here v.asturbed for over one hundred years.
Then, in a great war between France and England, the
English colonists living in the region which is now the
United States, came against Canada, and conquered it
for the English crown. After peace was declared, the
whole of Canada was open to English settlers, who came
flocking in from the British Isles. So it has come to
pass that, at the present day, there are living side by
side in Montreal, Protestant Englishmen and Catholic
Frenchmen.

The city is divided into the French and English
quarters, the east and the west ends. There is a
spirit of rivalry between the two races, which is shown
very plainly in the erection of churches and buildings
for charitable purposes. The French endow a school
for Catholics, the English one for Protestants; the
French establish a Catholic hospital, the English follow

46 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

- -a-o—

with its rival. All over the city rise the domes of
Catholic cathedrals and the spires of English churches ;
so that Montreal comes fairly by its name of the * City
of Churches.”

Notre Dame, with the exception of the cathedral in
Mexico, is the largest church of America. It can seat
ten thousand; and, on unusual occasions, when chairs
are placed in the aisles, fifteen thousand can be accom-
modated. The church resembles its great namesake, the
Notre Dame of Paris, and its tall twin towers are one
of the notable landmarks of the city. They are over
two hundred feet high, and contain a peal of eleven
bells, the most sweet-toned chimes on this continent.
The largest bell weighs over twelve tons, and is, in
weight, the fifth bell in the world. Any day, on going
into the vast cathedral, you may see peasant girls and
women kneeling before the high altar or before some
shrine. An Indian worshiper telling his beads is no
rare sight.

The Catholics of Montreal are not wealthy, yet they
undertake and accomplish very arbitious feats in archi-
tecture. Not quite forty years ago, an architect was
sent to Rome to take the measurements of the church
of St. Peter’s, the iargest church in the world.

He was commissioned to erect, on Dominion Square
in Montreal, a church one-third the size of St. Peter’s.
With the single exception of the roof, which must be
pointed to shed the snow easily, it was to be an exact
copy of the great original. With its mighty dome and
elegant front, the Canadian St. Peter’s is a great orna-
ment to Montreal.

domes of
churches ;
the * City

thedral in
It can seat
hen chairs
be accom-
nesake, the
rs are one
y are over
of eleven
continent.
and is, in
on going
t girls and
afore some
eads is no

y, yet they
ts in archi-
hitect was
the church
Me

on Square
st. Peter’s.
h must be
ye an exact
-dome and
great orna-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 47

ee -

Christ Church Cathedral, the chief Protestant church,
is built of gray stone, with trimmings of fine, cream-
colored sandstone. It is very much like au English
church, with its pointed spire, its tablets set in the walls,
and its gorgeous pew for the chief official of the city.
The tablets bear the honored names and in some cases
the titled names of Englishmen who have served their
Queen faithfully in the government of her great Ameri-
can province of Canada. In one part of the church is
conspicuously displayed a tattered banner which was
borne through the Crimean War with honor by Her
Majesty’s Canadian Volunteers. It was hung in the
church on the occasion of the Prince of Wales present-
ing a new banner to the regiment.

Massive monasteries end the high walls of convents are
seen on nearly every street. Perhaps the most noted
convent is that of the Gray Sisters, who are aided in
their good work by both Catholics and Protestants.
They care for the orphans, the agwd, and the infirm, and
take charge of various asylums and schools in different
parts of the city.

It is customary for the traveler to visit their hospital
at noon, when he sees the sisters at midday mass in the
chapel. This is a somewhat bare, cheerless room, with
whitened walls. The usual pictures and statues of saints
form the sole adornment of the place.

At the stroke of twelve the sisters enter two by two,
the lady superior bringing up the rear. The nuns are
dressed in gray, coarse material, blue-checked apro..s,
and black crape caps faced with white. The first two
nuns are young girls whose pale faces wear a look of

ae =

eR NRE AOR NPI

—

sesere

ETS ERE IO i I I

ch GRRE ia BO

sion OR

meron cnr

48 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

2 Oe -

perfect peace. The lady superior holds a hymn book
with which she leads them in their devotions, The
clapping together of the covers of the book is the signal
for them to kneel and to rise.

The French of Montreal are the class which cling
most closely to the ways of the past. The English are
the enterprising class who are bent on developing all the
possibilities of the city. They constitute the commercial
and manufacturing element. They widen the streets,
plan the squares, and lay out the public parks ; and, with
the exception of the churches, erect most of the public
buildings. There are, in the western part of the city,
fine broad streets, shaded with large trees, and lined
with handsome stone dwelling houses. Many of these
houses stand in the midst of fine grounds.

In the French quarter there are narrow little streets,
in which often nothing is seen to remind one that he is
in an American city belonging to England. All is
purely French in appearance.

The house is one story or one story and a half high,
and opens directly upon the street pavement. Within
is disclosed the living room, scrupulously neat, with
brilliantly colored prints of the Pope, or of some favorite
saint, upon the wall. Madame, large, tall, and fat, bends
over the cooking stove. Monsieur, thin and gray, reads
his paper in the sunny window, while the black-eyed
babies toddle and creep over the spotless floor.

Every aspect of the city bears testimony to the two-
fold nature of its inhabitants. ‘The hotels, kept in the
English style, have French waiters and French cooks.
The goods in the shops are English, but they are sold

hymn book
ions. The
3 the signal

vhich cling
“nglish are
ping all the
commercial
the streets,
sand, with
the public
of the city,
_ and lined
ny of these

ttle streets,
> that he is
ad. All is

, half high,
it. Within
neat, with
me favorite
d fat, bends
gray, reads
black-eyed
r.

to the two-
<ept in the
snch cooks.
ey are sold

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 49

by French clerks. Through the quaint streets, which
have been piously named for some old saints, tinkle the
American horse cars. In and out amongst the motley
crowd of prosperous English merchants, curious Yankee
tourists, and pushing Irish cabmen, glide the sombre
priest and the gray nun with her pale and downcast
face. There is plainly an un-American, not to say for-
eign, air about Montreal.

Like many of the towns of Normandy and Brittany,
Montreal was asleep for over one hundred years.
But the middle of this century witnessed the late
awakening of this city of the North. A place must be
indeed dead, in which no hidden life could be aroused
by such eveuts as the opening of the St. Lawrence sys-
tem of canals, the erection of the Victoria Bridge, the
building of the Grand Trunk Railroad, and the establish-
ment of a line of ocean steamers between Montreal and
Europe. Montreal has taken immense strides forward
commercially in the last twenty-five years, and the
future alone can show to what vast importance she may
attain.

CHAPTER V.
WINTER IN CANADA.

Canada is so far north of our country that you might
think of the winter as exceedingly cold and severe, and
picture the Canadians shivering before great logs blaz-
ing in their open fireplaces. But such is not the case.

” 2
i

ye anes See

50 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—o-——

It is true the weather is at times intensely cold; the
thermometer falls to points so far below zero, as almost
to frighten a citizen of the U-nived States. But the
skies are clear and blue; the air is dry; and the cold
is so bracing that one is inspired to unusual outdoor
exertions.

Here there are no fogs, sleet, slush, or east winds,
such as make winter in some regions of the United
States very unpleasant. ‘There are rarely any sudden
changes of weather. When the snow comes, it comes
to stay; and the Canadian boy, looking out at the first
shining snowstorm of the season, realizes that three de-
lightful months of uninterrupted pleasure lie before him.

Winter in Canada begins in December. Christmas
Day always finds the earth clad in its mantle of snow.
The most intense winter days come in January. By
the end of March, the winter is over in Ontario, and
spring ploughing and planting begin with the coming
of the warm April days. Spring is three weeks later
in the more northern province of Quebec.

Ihe Canadian rejoices in his winter. He would not
change it for the sunny, flower-scented winters of Flor-
ida or of Spain. These three months are the crown of
the year to him, for they are filled with most delightful
and healthful pastimes, — with skating, sleighing, snow-
shoeing, tobogganing, and ice boating. Young and old
are wild with excitement at the first snowstorm. The
grandfather becomes as youthful as the grandchild, and
joins as eagerly as any one in the sports of the hour.

Canada is the land where King Winter holds high
court. In 1883 the first winter Carnival was held in

y cold; the
0, as almost
; But the
nd the cold
ual outdoor

east winds,
the United
any sudden
es, it comes
, at the first
tat three de-
» before him.

Christmas
tle of snow.
unuary. By
Ontario, and
the coming
weeks later

e would not
ters of Flor-
he crown ot
st delightful
ghing, snow-
yung and old
storm. The
ndchild, and
the hour.

r holds high
was held in

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 61

——

Montreal, and. it was such a success that almost every
year since, a similar Carnival has taken place.

We will suppose that you are a bright, intelligent
schoolboy from the United States, who is spending Car-
nival week in Montieal. What are some of the inter-
esting sights you would see, and what are some of the
pleasant sports you would enjoy? You, like many of
your countrymen, have imagined that life in Canada
during winter was a dead-and-alive sort of existence.
So you are very much surprised by the glimpses of the
city of Montreal that you catch on driving to your
hotel.

Every one seems to be outdoors and enjoying himself.
Skaters are on the river, gliding to and fro; graceful
sleighs, furnished with buffalo robes, and carrying bright,
rosy faces, speed past you; jingling bells and snatches
of song and laughter are the sounds that greet your
ears. Every one seems to be having a thoroughly jolly
time.

On Monday evening, the first night of the Carnival,
the whole city goes to Dominion Square to see the
illumination of the Ice Palace. This is a great build-
ing which is made entirely of ice and snow. The blocks
of ice used in making it are four feet long by two wide.
They are cemented together by snow, and then water
is pumped over the whole, so that the palace is frozen
into a firm, compact structure. If any one wished to
separate the ice into blocks again, he would have to
saw them apart. The palace is square, with square
towers at each corner, and a larger tower, one hundred
feet high, in the centre.

52 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

In the sunlight or the moonlight, the Ice Palave is
a wonderfully dazzling sight. And now, on this in-
auguration night, illuminated by electricity, it is mar-
velously beautiful. It seems to you like a fairy palace,
which the wand of some powerful magician has called
into being. Purple, green, crimson, and gold lights
are burned within, and in their radiance the palace
looks like glass. It is like a brilliant bubble or a rain-

THE ICE PALACE.

bow; and, almost unconsciously, you hold your breath
for fear the slightest motion of the air will cause the
magic structure to vanish.

The snow begins to fall, but the crowd still linger
in front of the Ice Palace, as if expecting something.
You decide to wait, too, and soon from far away you
hear the tramp, tramp, tramp, of human feet. The
steady sound is like the march of an army. Presently

Palace is
1 this in-
it is mar-

ry palace,
has called
ld lights
he palace
or a rain-

yur breath
cause the

till linger
something.
away you
eet. The
Presently

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 53

fifteen hundred men on snowshoes march into the
square, each carrying a torch in one hand wnd a
Roman candle, shooting off brilliant lights, in the
other. It is a procession of snowshoe clubs.

Each company has a differently colored dress, which
forms the badge of the club. First, marches the oldest
club of all, the Montreal, known by the blue cap.
The &. George follows; then come the Emerald, St.
Andrews, Prince of Wales Rifles, Mount Royal, and the
representatives of the snowshoe clubs at Ottawa and
Quebec.

The costume of the snowshoers consists of a blanket
coat, reaching halfway to the knees, and short blanket
trousers. The blankets are white, bordered with stripes
of various bright colors. They are made up with the
stripes edging the coat. A sash is wound around the
waist many times and knotted over the hips. A hood,
very mv), like the hoods worn by the monks of the
Middle Ages, hangs midway down the back of the coat.
That is merely for ornament, as the real covering for
the head is a conical, knit cap, ornamented with a
tassel at the top. It is worn low over the ears, and is
allowed to droop on one side. Thick gloves or mittens,
long stockings, and moccasins, together with the snow-
shoes, complete the suit.

The ecestumes of the various clubs differ from one
another merely in the colors chosen. The dress is always
of the same inaterial and make. .

The purple and white costume of the St. George Club
is very pretty. The stripes on the coat and hood, the
sash, stockings, and mittens are purple. The remainder

ema 7 . ——— = . wat panne ecm toca

LOTT

Sgrenen nme ta

ART SAO ERROR TET

54 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

of the suit is white. The cap has wide purple and white
stripes, with a purple tassel. A purple St. George’s
cross adorns the chest. _

The snowshoer’s costume is very warm and conven-
ient, and is the dress worn by tobogganers as well.
Ladies are often members of these clubs. Their dress
is like that of the men, except that their coat is a long
ulster reaching to the ankles.

All this time the procession has been winding around
and through the palace, which, by the light of torches
and fireworks, appears more splendid than ever. Now,
followed by a portion of the crowd, it leaves the city,
and winds away through dark, quiet roads. to pine-clad
Mount Royal. The procession resembles a fiery ser-
pent, as it curves in and out among the trees; now
pausing to wait for the stragglers, and now pressing on
again sturdily. At last it reaches the summit, and, wav-
ing its lights to signal good by to those watching far
below, it vanishes on the other side of the mountain.

You gaze upward fascinated, long after the lights have
gone. You still hear the hoo-00-00 of the snowshoers,
and the crunch of the wet snow under the feet of the
sturdy Canadians. What fine, strong, athletic fellows
they are! You admire them ‘vith your whole soul, and
resolve that, if you can, you will learn to use snow-
shoes, and will join chem on their next tramp over the
country.

You obtain a pair of snowshoes, and wisely spend an
hour in studying them before attempting to use them.
Roughly speaking, their shape is like that of a tennis
racket. They are about four feet long.

nd white
George’s

conven-
as well.
eir dress
is a long

¢ around
f torches
. Now,
the city,
pine-clad
fiery ser-
ees; NOW
essing On
and, wav-
ching far
ntain.

ghts have
owshoers,
et of the
ic fellows
soul, and
use snow-
yover the

spend an
use them.
f a tennis

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 55

——2-—

A strip of tough ash, about three-quarters of an inch
thick, is bent to form an oval, and the ends are strongly
bound together. These ends form the heel of the
snowshoe. ‘The shape of the shoe is kept by means of
two crosspieces, one near the front of the shoe, the other
near the heel. The whole interior is then covered by
a strong network of raw hide. Just back of the first
crosspiece 18 an open space about three or four inches
square. ‘This is where the toes come when the shoe is
on, and, owing to the absence of the network, they can
move up and down as freely as in ordinary walking.
The shoe is fastened to the foot by straps of deerskin.

The snow most common in the United States is very
moist. It is the kind useful in making snowballs and
snow forts, and is called by schoolboys, sticky snow.
Although this kind of snow sometimes does fall in Can-
ada, yet the kind with which the people are most familiar
differs very much from this.

It is dry, hard, and gritty. Roll in it, and, on rising,
it can be shaken off as easily as grains of sand. Whei
your mother sweeps @ room, she sometimes sprinkles wet
tea leaves on the carpet. The dust clings to the leaves,
and both are brushed up together. In Canada, they use
snow instead of tea leaves, when sweeping rooms. It
can be brushed up as easily as sand.

However convenient this kind of snow may be at
times, it is very difficult to walk upon, as it rarely
forms a crust. It is so very mealy and yielding that it
cannot support the weight of a man. The Indians,
forced to hunt for food in all seasons, invented the
snowshoe, by means of which the weight is thrown

56 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

upon and supported by a larger surface than it is in
the ordinary walking boot. The Canadians have adopted
it, and it now makes walking after a ey snowstorm
a delightful possibility.

In attempting to use snowshoes you 11ake the usual
mistake of keeping the feet too far apart, and of walk-
ing with unnatural movements. But after several tum-
bles into snowdrifts, you learn to move the feet just
as in ordinary walking, merely lifting one snowshoe up
and over the other.

A few hours’ practice enables you to feel fairly con-
fident in your powers, and arouses an eager longing for
the day of the tramp of the St. George Club, which you
have been asked to join.

At three o’clock on the appointed day, you find a
throng of eager fellows in the McGill College grounds.
Some are chatting gaily, some are examining the straps
of their snowshoes, others are studying the weather,
and consulting about the prospects of a storm before
night. At length the captain gives the signal, and they
march out of the city.

When they have arrived at the crossroads, where the
deeper snow is found, a halt is ordered. Here the snow-
shoes, which have been slung on the backs, are put on,
and in single file the procession moves on again. And
now, with shouts and halloos, the club breaks into a wild
run across the country.

You and a few others, who are taking a first run to-
day, are left far in the rear. An officer called the
“whipper-in,” whose duty it is to assist the laggards,
keeps near by to encourage you.

eat aie

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 57

—--o—
it is in There are scores of fences to be climbed in the course
adopted of the tramp. The freshest of the club vault the fence
owstorm at a run; some climb pantingly over; while a few catch

their shoes in the bars and fall headlong into the deep

he usual drifts. Then what shouts of good-natured laughter arise,

of walk- as the poor fellows are drawn out by the heels!
, 2 The course is now over a level plain. The captain
ral tum

: orders the company to charge it; and with a wild hur-
eet jus

rah, away they go, as fleet as the wind. They seem to
be beside themselves with excitement and delight in the
snow. Gray-haired men leap fences like boys, while
others attempt a race with a locomotive. The horses

vshoe up

irly con-
iging for

hich you on the road are frightened by their shouts, but the snow-
shoers are lost to everything but their own pleasure.
x find a At last, in the gray January twilight, they arrive at
grounds. the litt'e inn where they are to rest and take supper,
ne straps before returning.
weather, Snowshoes are thrown off; snowy coats and caps are
m before beaten and piled in corners; the icicles hanging from
and they beards and mustaches are melted ; and all due prepara-
tion for supper is made. What an appetite every one
vhere the has! The hot joints of meat are soon disposed of, and
he snow- the weary snowshoers throw themselves down to rest
e put on, —a few on sofas and chairs, but the majority on the
in. And floor before the blazing fire.

Then a curious entertainment begins. The whole
party sing one of their choruses, and then different

to a wild

st run to- members of the club are called upon to sing, dance, and
ulled the tell stories.
laggards, And now they proceed to “bounce” you and the

other newcomers. Two lines are formed, and those at

SFT ELLE See ebtaner aU Reee Maes Tm See tvST erates iy PSSA TETAGIT AG TERT AA A

Lerten tenner . ne a

—

ames

a
ae wero

eae

a rcs eon

RES LRB OTRAS Nii

ameriozan.
SE EO

Se TR IES EI
on

REET

58 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

the top take a firm grip of your clothes, telling you to
“hold yourself as rigid as possible.” You are a little
frightened, and close your eyes, as you find yourself
jerked down the line, and caught in the arms of those
at the end. ‘Then you are sent back in the same man-
ner; and when, very much bewildered, you are set upon
your fee! again, you conclude that, after all, bounc-
ing” was pretty good fun.

Finally there is a consultation of watches, and all
rise to sing “God save the Queen,” the national song
which aiways closes an evening’s entertainment. Coats
and snowshoes are slipped on: and, with a ringing cheer
to the little inn and its hospitable keeper, the club
troop homeward under the clear, blue sky and brilliant
stars.

However popular snowshoeing may be, skating is
truly the national sport of Canada. This will not seem
strange to any one who thinks of the great frozen sur-
faces of the country, — the St. Lawrence and its five
Great Lakes.

During the Carnival, races and skating contests take
place on the river. The spectators stand about on the
ice, just beyond the course marked for the skaters.
First comes a two-mile race on skates, followed by a
quarter-mile backward race; then a hurdle race; and
the a barrel race. .

A hurdle is something like a baned gate, with all
the bars except the top one renoved. The burdles are
placed along the course, and the skaters are obliged to
leap them in the race. You would suppose thar, with
skates upon their feet, they could never be successiul,

secymeat sremesmpaeemene: _saeat-sepeioevonemrea: met sacar tary ———

g you to
e a little
yourself
of those
me man-
set upon
_ * bounc-

, and all
nal song
t. Coats
ing cheer
the club
brilliant

kating is
not seem
ozen sur-
d its five

fests take
14 on the
» skaters.
wed by a

ace; and

, with all
irdles are
bliged to
thav, with
uccessiul,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 59

or, if they cleared the hurdle at all, they would fall in a
heap upon the other side. But many of the skaters are
wonderfully proficient in this art. ‘They skate along at
full speed, leap the hurdle, alight on their skates, and
move along as swiftly as before. Many of them look
very funny as they jump. Some double up with their
head and knees together, while others lean so far to
one side as to seem to have lost their balance.

The barrel race for boys is still more amusing. Com-
mon barrels with the heads removed are placed on the
ice, at certain distances apart, along the race course, for
a quarter of a mile. Then, at a given signal, all the
boys skate for the first barrel. Many reach it together,
and there is considerable of a scramble to get through
the barrel. A skater has to pass through every barrel
on the ice to win the race. Sometimes a barrel tarns
around while a boy is working his way through it.
The boy is confused on coming out, and skates away in
just the wrong direction, until, through the laughter of
the spectators, he discovers his blunder. How the boys
and the barrels bob about while the race is going on !

There are two kinds of skating rinks, — the covered
and the open. The open skating rink has no roof. On
clear, bright nights it is much more thronged than the
covered rink. How beautiful the sight as you look up
and see the dark blue sky and the bright, twinkling stars
overhead! The skating rinks inclose acres of clear, level
ice, and are illuminated with electric lights. Seats are
arranged for spectators around the sides of the building,
fountains sparkle here and there, and the changing
throng of skaters is a fascinating picture.

60 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The Victoria Skating Rink in Montreal is the largest
covered skating rink in Canada. On the evening after
the inauguration of the Ice Palace, you and your friends
attend the masquerade given there.

On entering the rink you are dazzled by the great
expanse of smooth, carefully scraped ice. Several acres
of ice are inclosed by the great walls of the rink. In
the centre is built a small copy of the Ice Palace in
Dominion Square. It is lit by electric and colored
lights, and fountains play wituin its walls. The specta-
tors’ seats are crowded, and it is with difficulty that you
secure a place.

Presently the band begins to play, and throngs of
skaters glide from the cosey dressing rooms out upon
the ice. Every one wears a mask, and is arrayed in
some fancy dress, grotesque, interesting, or beautiful.

Here are characters illustrating the early history of
Canada, — Jacques Cartier, Champlain, Montcalm, and
many others. Steel-clad warriors, countesses in silk and
satin, and Indians in paint and wampum, mingle with
delicate fairies, fiends clad in red jerseys and armed with
frightful horns, and animals from fairyland. Here is
our friend Bruin in shaggy fur, skating away as if that
were the usual means by which bears journeyed across
the country. Here is Red Riding-Hood hand in hand
with the wolf. See that child in quaint Highland
dress. The plaid stockings are as becoming to the
sturdy legs as is the Scotch cap and feather to the
curly hair. Queen Elizabeth passes, arm in arm with a
humble shepherdess.

Fascinated by the pretty sight, you gaze long at the

ie largest
ing after
i friends

the great
ral acres
rink. In
Palace in
| colored
le specta-
that you

irongs of
out upon
‘rayed in
utiful.
istory of
alm, and
. silk and
ngle with
med with
Here is
is if that
ed across
in hand
Highland
ig to the
er to the
m with a

ig at the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 61

—-oo

shifting scene, which is rendered more beautiful by its
perfect reflection in the mirror of ice below. What is it
that comes lumbering this way? It is an elephant. It
is the immortal Jumbo! ‘Two fine skaters are represent-
ing him. Their disguise is capital; for Jumbo appears
as natural as life, and seems quite at home on the ice.

Now the music changes to a lively valtz, and the
skaters take part in the dance with pe:fect ease and
grace. A square dance follows. Some of the skaters
give an exhibition of fancy skating in a less crowded
corner of the rink. .

While watching them, you wonder if anywhere in
the world there are their equals. You doubt it. A
maypole, decked with colored ribbons, is set up on the
ice. A dozen of the best skaters seize the ends of the
ribbons, and waltz about the pole to the sound of music,
until all the ribbons have been wound around it.

At nine o’clock the masks are removed, and the
merry, laughing faces of the skaters are revealed.
Prizes are then awarded to those wearing the most
historically correct or most ideally beautiful costumes.
When the band plays “God save the Queen,” at the
close of the entertainment, you realize that one of the
most enjoyable of the Carnival evenings is at an end.

But there are plenty of other joys remaining, among
them the sleighing. The Russians are the people
most devoted to sleighing in the Old World, and the
Canadians in the New. The Canadian roads are hard
and perfectly adapted to sleighing throughout the
winter. There are no sudden changes of weather,
which make runners necessary one day and wheels the

ea —

62 THE WORLD ANDO ITS PEOPLE.

next. The ordinary sleigh, or cutter, is a very pretty
vehicle. It has slender, delicately curved runners, and
beautifully shaped, yet commodious body.

An afternoon ride in Great St. James Street, during
Carnival time, is thoroughly enjoyable. All the fine
equipages are out, and everywhere are seen handsome
sleighs, prancing horses, and fine liveries.

There are sleighing clubs in Montreal and other
cities of Canada. ‘These clubs, like the snowshoeing
clubs, have their meeting places, their excursions into
the open country, their jolly suppers or dinners at
some distant little inn, and their gay moonlight returns
to the city. The Tandem Club is one of the most
noted of the sleighing clubs of Montreal.

The Canadian is indebted to the Indian, not only for
the snowshoe, but also for the toboggan. On snow-
shoes the Indian is able to follow the deer into its
deepest forest retreats, and, after he has brought down
his prey, to draw it home on his toboggan. This is a
kind of sled, built so that it can move over the lightest
and most powdery snow without sinking.

In making the toboggan, two pieces of basswood six
feet long and two feet wide are planed down to one-
quarter of an inch in thickness; they are steamed to
make them flexible; and then they are fastened together
by four or five bars of wood. One end is curved
upward and backward like the dashboard of a sleigh,
and is held in this position by wires. Two thin strips
of wood are fastened along the sides, and the toboggan
is complete, so far as its Indian maker is concerned.
The Canadian purchaser adds a cushion.

———
= aS

senate cama

a Se ae eee

ery pretty
nners, and

et, during
1 the fine
handsome

and other
owshoeing
‘sions into
linners at
ht returns
the most

t only for
On snow-
1 into its
ught down

This is a
he lightest

3swood six
wn to one-
steamed to
od together
is curved
if a sleigh,
thin strips
e toboggan
concerned.

te ee

a nnn ARN asec
SP eeepc Tae re

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 68

The toboggan can be used on any hillside ; but as
there are apt to be inequalities in the surface of a hill,
artificial slides are also built,

The toboggan slide on Mount Royal, which is
thronged during Carnival time, is artificial. It consists
of a steep inclined plane, built of lugs and planks and
covered with ice. Up one side of the slide, steps are
cut for the tobogganers to climb while drawing their
toboggans after them. There is a small platform at
the top, where one can place his toboggan in position,
and seat himself before taking the desperate plunge.

A Canadian boy has asked you to go tobogganing
this evening. The slide is a cheerful sight. ‘Torcl.es
are stuck in the snow on each side of the slide; while
here and there are huge bonfires, about which gather
gay groups of young men and women. Most of them
are attired in the blanket suits of the snowshoers.

As you climb upward, and see the toboggans dash-
ing down the perilous incline, you almost repent of
your promise to your friend. It seems as if every one
was going to destruction. Here and there are seen the
pale, frightened faces of visitors who are taking their
first slide; and you are sure that they will never be seen
or heard of again. But in a few moments they appear,
climbing up to the top, eager to try it again.

This encourages you. Your friend invites you to
take the front seat, carefully looks to see that there is
no dragging end of a coat or sash, gives the toboggan a
short, strong push, leaps on, and you are off.

Now you are falling into space! Your breath is
whisked from your body! Fragments of snow and ice

|
}
|
|

eam ete

64. THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—--o—

dash themselves against you; you are forced to hide
your face behind your knees. Then you look up. What
are those black objects flying by like rockets on one
side? They must be ‘tobogganers climbing up to the
top of the slide. Then you are still on the slide after
all. No, not on the slide, but at the bottom; for, in
another second, with a long, slow, creeking glide, the
toboggan comes to a standstill. You catch your breath,
rise, and look about you.

Far away up in the air stand tiny, black figures.
They are the people at the top of the slide, whom you
left just half a minute ago. Your friend still holds the
two small “steering sticks.” By sticaing their metal
points into the snow from time to time, he has directed
your mad flight. He turns, and asks if you are ready
for one more vide.

You give a relieved smile. “One more! <A’ dozen,
if you please,” you say, and, seizing the toboggan rope,
you hurry up the hill, only too eager, now that the first
desperate plunge has been taken safely, to enjoy the
delightful sport for hours.

“Oh, yes! it is very fair fun,” says your friend, in
answer to your enthusiastic praises of the sport. “ Very
fair indeed! But you should try a real hill to know
what toboggmiing is! Here there are no hollows in
the slide to give the toboggan desperate jounces and
leaps into the air. Those we find on the Céte St. An-
toine Slide. That has a descent of two thousand feet,
and then a glide across the lowlands at the foot of the
hill of several hundred yards.

“But after all, the very finest toboggan slide I ever

’

om acta eo

sian ean aa NC la ERE re as A

|
|
j
;

‘ced to hide
kup. What
‘ets on one
g up to the
e slide after
tom; for, in
ig glide, the
your breath,

ack figures.
2, whom you
ill holds the
their metal
has directed
yu are ready

! A: dozen,
boggan rope,
that the first
to enjoy the

ur friend, in
port.“ Very
hill to know
» hollows in
jounces and
Cote St. An-
1ousand feet,
ie foot of the

1 slide I ever

i
f
{
ia
|
i
|

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 65

saw was at Montmorency Falls, near Quebec. You
see, the spray, dashing upward from the foot of the

A TOBOGGAN SPILL.

falls, freezes in winter into a perfect cone over eighty

feet high.

Then the slide is not only down the cone,

66 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

but across the St. Lawrence as well. That is toboggan-
ing indeed.”

The newest of the sports of Canada is ive boating.
But if you wish to see this in its perfection, you must
leave Montreal and its gay Carnival doings, and journey
to one of the towns of Southern or Western Ontario.

The frosts in this region are very sharp and keen.
The ice formed on lakes Huron, Erie, and Ontario
stretches outward from the shore for some miles. On
this shore ice, and on the frozen rivers, ice boating is
pursued.

The ice boat consists of a triangular framework of
wood, held in shape by several crosspieces. A small
box, constituting a kind of cabin to this novel yacht, is
fastened upon the framework. A mast, for the sup-
port of a few sails, is set well forward. Each of the
three points of the triangular ice boat is set upon a steel
runner, something like the blade of a skate; and, pro-
pelled by the winds that blow against its canvas, the
ice boat skates along over its glassy way. There is a
small metal rudder for steering, which acts upon the ice
something like a brake.

Next to a balloon or a railroad train, the ice boat is
the swiftest, means of traveling. Indeed, under favor-
able circumstances it can hold its own for a short time
with a railroad train. Its average rate of speed is from
twenty to twenty-five miles an hour.

Whiuled along at this speed, you feel yourself grow
colder and colder. You are curled up in the little box,

with warm fur robes piled above you; but they afford °

slight protection. The keen wind cuts through every

q
if
e

tobog gan-

» boating.
you must
id. journey
Jntario.

uid keen.
d Ontario
niles. On
boating is

nework of

A small
+1 yacht, is
yx the sup-
ach of the
pon a steel
»; and, pro-
canvas, the
There is a
ipon the ice

» ice boat is
under favor-
. short time
peed is from

urself grow
1e little box,

t they afford °

rough every

Te
q
é
i?
3
3
¥:
ij

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 67

wrap like a knife. The boat speeds on. It is charm-
ing to watch her as she moves, first with one blade in
the air, and then with two. Rarely are all three blades
moving upon the ice at once.

Under any but very skilful pilotage, the boat would
come to grief. An incautious movement of the rudder,
the spreading of an unnecessary sail, or the catching of
a runner in a rough bit of ice, would be apt to wreck
the unstable little craft. It needs a quick eye and a
steady hand to pilot her safely on her course. But it is
with ice boating as it is with tobogganing, the very
dangers which are involved in it are its chief recom-
mendation.

Thess sports are pursued by young and old all
through the keen, but profoundly enjoyed winter. As
a result of all these hardy exercises, the Canadians are
a robust, happy, healthful people. Care does not seem
to make the fathers of families grow old as early in life
as in our own country. Boys who take prizes in the
snowshoeing or skating contests oft :n please their par-
ents quite as much as if they had won a prize for good
scholarship.

The girls are strong, healthy creatures, quite as much
interested in outdoor sports as the boys. They steer
toboggans, skate, and go on long snowshoe tramps with
a right good will.

Nervous invalids from our country and Europe find
themselves cured on passing an active winter in Canada.
And, in short, all who have been there in Carnival time
will say that Canada is the winter paradise of the
world. :

2 pe eR sae . PRES ETE I —

68 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

CHAPTER VI.

THROUGH THE GREAT LAKES.

The largest and best known river of Canada is the
St. Lawrence, which bears down to the sea volumes of
fresh water poured into it by five lakes, —the largest
fresh water lakes in the world. They are Lakes Supe-
rior, Michigan, Huron, Erie, and Ontario. We can go
on a steamer from Lake Superior, the most western of
the lakes, down through the other lakes and the rivers
which drain them, to the sea. Fifty years ago such a
journey would have been impossible, because there were
then impassable rapids in the way. But the rapids are
now passed by canals, and a water way of two thousand
one hundred miles has been thrown open to commerce
and to travel.

We will begin our journey by starting from Duluth,
a flourishing city of the United States, situated at the
western end of Lake Superior. It is a beautiful day for
a sail. Fleecy clouds pass swiftly overhead and draw
dark purple shadows in the blue waters of the lake.
The water is churned by the paddle wheel of the steamer
into a creamy, yellow froth, tinged here and there with
emerald or turquoise. The fresh breeze fans our cheeks,
and, as we come more into the open stretch of the lake,
the waves mount higher and higher, until they are
almost equal to ocean billows.

The motion of the steamer is so great that many of
the passengers have retired to their staterooms, where

nada is the
volumes of
the largest
kes Supe-
We can go
; western of
1 the rivers
ago such a
. there were
rapids are
vo thousand
0 commerce

om Duluth,
uated at the
tiful day for
id and draw
of the lake.
f the steamer
d there with
s our cheeks,
1 of the lake,
itil they are

that many of
rooms, where

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 69

they will remain until calmer waters are reached. The
passengers who are on deck at about dinner time, notice
flocks of gulls following the steamer. They seem to
know by instinct when meal-time approaches, and follow
the vessel closely to pick up the crumbs thrown to them
by the steward.

The captain produces a gun, takes careful aim at one
gull, and shoots. The bird, with a sudden-movement,
dexterously avoids the shot, and follows the steamer *s
persistently as ever. These birds, on account of their
sudden, quick movements, are difficult to shoot.

The ladies on board beg crumbs of the steward, and
throw them to the great white-winged birds. It is a
pretty sight to watch a gull flying down in a swift
curve, catching the floating bits of bread while in rapid
flight, and speeding on in his uninterrupted course.

We are coasting along the northern or Canadian
shore of Lake Superior. This shore is bold and rocky,
and is bordered by many steep cliffs and gloomy preci-
pices. The valleys of the small streams which flow into
the lake have high and narrow walls, and indeed form
small canyons, or gorges. The northern shore presents
a strong contrast to the southern or American shore,
which is low and sandy.

Many islands skirt the edge of the lake. Some are
mere crags rising from the water like the battlemented
walls of a castle; others are low, with white, sandy
beaches, and a scanty crop of evergreen shrubs. On
many of these islands thousands of birds lay their eg'gs,
and, at any time in the summer, eno1gh may be gath-
ered to make a delicious meal.

PF “ omen <n <sePe eae

70 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—

We are now at the entrance of Thunder Bay. The
Marquis of Lorne, late governor of Canada, gave this
bay the pretty name of “ The Silver Gate of Lake Supe-
rior.” It was so called because silver was found in
great quantities on the eastern side of the bay. The
“Silver Gate” is guarded eternally by two mighty war-
dens, — Thunder Cape and McKay’s Mountain.

If we should sail into Thunder Bay, we should find
two flourishing towns on its western shore. One is Fort
William, and the other Prince Arthur's Landing.

Fort William is the older of the two. It was once
the busy headquarters of a large company of fur traders,
known as the Northwest Company. Once a year the
chief men of the company would proceed from Montreal
and Quebec to the remote little post of Fort William
to meet their officers who had been stationed in the
West. ,

The progress of the leaders of the company was al-
most like a triumphal march. They brought with them
canoes laden with rich foods and choice wines. French
cooks and bakers accompanied them ; and Canadian
oarsmen, as obedient as galley slaves, rowed their
canoes. Imagine their slow, stately progress across wild
Lake Superior and through the noble gateway of Thun-
der Bay, with Thunder Cape and McKay’s Mountain
waving their giant pines in salute.

At Fort William the partners of the company who
came from the trading posts in the far West also assem-
bled. Mies “O’ere men who had spent their lives in the
hack woods, auc who, for their faithful services, had
been made partners in the company. How proud they

say. The
gave this
ake Supe-
found in
vay. The
ghty war-
L.

vould find
ne is Fort
ng.

was once
ar tracers,
, year the
. Montreal
t William
ed in the
ny was al-
with them
. French
Canadian
wed their
cross wild
y of Thun-
Mountain

pany who
also assem-
ives in the
rvices, had
proud they

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 71

were to receive © summons to the council chamber and
the sumptuous board at Fort William! Many of them
were Scotchmen, who decked themselves and the ad-
miring retainers who accompanied them, as bravely as
if they were going to a ggthering of the clans in the
Scotch Highlands.

The meeting took place in an enormous chamber,
whose rough walls were hung with Indian tomahawks
and clubs, and with the skins of fur-bearing animals.

First was held the great couneil, which was conducted
with all the pomp and seriousness of a true parliament.
The accounts of the year just closed were made up ; the
officers from the remote posts made their reports; and
new plans for the coming year were discussed.

Then came the banquet, the great occasion of the year.
The tables groaned under the good cheer, Here were
venison from the forest, and fish from the lake, with the
unusual luxuries of buffaloes’ tongues and beavers’ tails.
Then it was that the grand seigniors from Montreal
unbent, and joked and laughed with a right good will.
Such thrilling stories of adventure as were told around
that festive board! The rousing songs and resounding
cheers that arose seemed almost to crack the rafters.

What a picture the flickering fire light shone upon, as it
lighted the grizzly, sunburnt countenances of the rough
hunters, and the pale, refined faces of the traders from
Montreal! The muscular, brown hands of the forests
raised the bumpers together with delicate, white hands
from the city. All was brightness, warmth, and hearty
good cheer, as those old fellows told their wonderful
stories and roared over their jokes like boys.

72 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

But the palmy days of the old fur traders are gone
from the town of Fort William. As for the fort itself,
it is now crv»: bling t« lee -y, while weeds flourish in the

silent cad deseried courted,

Copper is (oes 0: -veat quantities on an island in
the easter) par.) tobe Superior. The mines are now
worked by an Engiish cous ony, but centuries ago they

were mined by an ancient people of whom very little is
known. They built large, earthen mounds, shaped like
serpents, beasts, and men; and on this account are
known as the Mound Builders. Their shaft, in which
a large mass of copper hangs suspended, and their rude
mining tools, can still be seen on the island. Rich mines
of copper and iron are found in the United States on the
shore of Lake Superior.

The bed of the lake is inlaid with many precious
stones, which the waves are continually bringing to the
shore. Imagine yourself walking along one of Lake
Superior’s white beaches and seeing a retreating wave
leave an opal at your feet, —a lovely, clear stone, with
red, blue, green, and violet lights shooting through it.

A party in a canoe will often go hunting for amethysts,
just as a New England party might start off on a search
for checkerberries. Green jasper, many-colored car-
nelian, and agate can be found. The stones are small,
but sometimes a large one rewards patient search.

The water of Lake Superior is as clear as crystal. On
calm days, an anchor painted white can be seen at a
depth of ninety fathoms. The water is also intensely
cold. Ifa vessel were wrecked very far from land, the
stoutest swimmer could hardly save himself. The cold

i
]
(
I
1

are gone
ort itself,
ish in the

island in
- are now
ago they
y little is
aped like
ount are
in which
heir rude
ich mines
tes on the

precious
ng to the
_ of Lake
ing wave
one, with
ough it.
methysts,
1 a search
ored car-
ire small,
‘ch.
ystal, On
seen at a
intensely
land, the
The cold

OUR AMERIC'N NEIGHBORS. 6)

of the -vater . ould, in time, benumb him so that he
woul become unable to take a single stroke.

This lake comes ju:‘ly |, its name, for it is superior
to all the other Great Lakes in its size, in the clearness
and coldness of its water, in the healthfulness of its
climate, and in its mineral wealth.

Violent storms have often occurred on Lake Superior,
in which many lives have been lost. ‘The waves of the
lake, under a sweeping wind, can be raised into tremen-
dous billows; and there are certain walls of cliffs on the
north shore, which a canoe never ventures past in uncer-
tain weather.

Lake Superior flows into Lake Huron by the St.
Mary’s River, at the head of which are the St. Mary’s
Rapius. The rapids can be descended in a canoe, but
steamers and other vessels pass through the canal.
There is no steep fall in any part of the rapids, but
instead, a gradual flow of the river over a descent of
eighteen feet in three-quarters of a mile.

Many small islands lie in the midst of the stream,
making numerous channels among the rapids. — De-
scending the rapids in a canoe is called “ dancing among
the waters.” Many tourists, among them ladies, enjoy
this somewhat dangerous pastime exceedingly.

Indians in canoes may be seen fishing at all hours.
Fine whitefish are caught at the foot of the rapids.
Two Indians take their canoe into the most turbulent
part of the channel below the rapids. One sits in the
stern, and, with his single oar, holds the canoe in place
for hours, as steadily as if it were anchored.

The other is the fisherman. He stands in the bow

74 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eee

with a large scoop net over three feet in diameter. As
a whitefish attempts to swim up the rapids, he throws
the net over his nose, and, with a dexterous turn of
the wrist, the net is closed and the prize hauled on
board. ‘This kind of fishing is very exciting ana pays
well.

Now we enter Lake Huron. This is the third of the
Great Lakes in size, — Lake Michigan, which belongs
wholly to the United States, being the next largest to
Superior.

The southwestern shores of Lake Huron are rich in
mines of salt and brine. They were discovered by a
man who was boring for oil. He had pierced to the
depth of one thousand feet, when he came to an under-
ground pool of brine, which is salt dissolved in water,

Examining further, he discovered many more pools
of brine, separated by beds of salt erystals. The pools
of brine had once been beds of crystals; but rain water
had penetrated to the layers of salt crystals, had melted
them, and had thus formed brine.

There are many salt factories in this region, where
the salt is mined, partially purified, packed, and shipped
to distant places. The tall, tapering chimneys, which
cover the openings into the mines, are common sights
on the shores of Lake Huron.

Many of the Canadian villages and towns have a fleet
of fishing boats, or wherries, which sail, in the early
dawn, to the fishing grounds, twenty miles away. The
crew of the wherry consists of four men, often grim
and silent Scotchmen.

The ordinary catch is from one thousand to two

eter. As
he throws
is turn of
nawed on
ana pays

ird of the
h belongs
largest to

re rich in
ered by a
sed to the
an under-
in water.

nore pools
The pools
rain water
had melted

rion, where
nd shipped
Leys, which
mon sights

have a fleet
1 the early
way. The
often grim

and to two

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 75

—;oo-

thousand pounds, mostly obtained by net. The fish
usually caught are the salmon trout, often as large
and heavy as a child of three years; the whitefish,
which is delicious eating; and the lake herring, some-
what like the salt water herring. ‘The fish are cleaned
on board, as the wherry is returning to the shore, which
it reaches about noon. ‘The cargo is then bought by a
firm of fish dealers, who either pickle the fish or send
them, packed in ice, to the markets in Canada and the
United States.

The waters of Luke Huron vary in color. Near the
shore they are of a brownish yellow; then the yellow
shades into green; next is a patch of pure green; and in
the centre, the lake is a bright blue. Under the sunset,
bands of purple, violet, and all the colors of the rain-
bow blend with the blue of the lake.

The three links that bind Lake Huron to Lake Erie
are the St. Clair River, Lake St. Clair, and the Detroit
River. All these are on the same level, and navigation
can be easily carried on through them. No canals are
necessary. The only obstacle in the past was the shal-
lowness of Lake St. Clair. But lately a deep channel
has been dredged through the middle of the lake at
considerable cost. The largest steamers can now pass
through the channel, which is bordered on each side by
broad dikes, on whose tops lighthouses and cottages
may be seen.

The St. Clair River in past ages brought down so
much fine mud that a delta of forty acres was formed at
its mouth. The delta contains many small lakes and
grassy islands, and is known as the St. Clair Flats.

76 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

oor

Rushes and sedges grow from the water, and in some
places choke up the small channels so that it is difficult
to push a boat through the dense growth. Game is
very plentiful on the St. Clair Flats. Some acres have
been hired by sportsmen, who have erected clubhouses,
and who come to the flats about the twelfth of August
for a few days’ shooting.

There are innumerable stories that might be told of
the Detroit River, — Indian stories, and stories of the
Jesuits, the devoted men who braved the dangers of the
sea and the forest, hoping to teach the Indians Chris-
tianity. One story we will listen to, which has for a
hero an old French priest, Pére Galinée. He and his
followers had started to explore the Detroit River and
to establish there a mission to the Indians.

The journey was one chapter of accidents. It seemed
to the priests as if Satan had control of the weather, the
winds, and the waves, and was using all his power to
prevent them from reaching their journey’s end.

They had found Lake Erie in its stormiest mood.
Once a high surf arose and carried off their canoe ;
again, as they were thoroughly wearied out by a tramp
of sixty miles and were sleeping on its shores, a violent
wind sprang up and the rising waters of the lake swept
away their baggage, provisions, and, worst loss of all,
the altar service, which was to them the most impor-
tant sign of the faith for which they were working.
This was a great blow.

Proceeding to the Detroit River, they found on its
shore a camp ground, sacred to the Indian god who
ruled the waters of Lake Erie. The god, a great stone

i
:

l in some
s difficult

Game is
wcres have
‘ubhouses,

of August

be told of
‘ies of the
rers of the
ans Chris-
has for a
le and his
River and

It seemed
eather, the
; power to
nd.
iest mood.
eir canoe;
by a tramp
s, a violent
lake swept
loss of all,
10st. impor-
e working.

und on its
n god who
great stone

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 77

—~-e-o

idol with rudely painted features, stool in the centre
of the camp ground, surrounded by a circle of lodges.
Whenever the Indians ventured in their canoes upon
stormy Lake Erie, they were accustomed to offer up
sacrifices of furs and game to this god, praying him to
guide them safely on their way.

The Indians advised the missionaries to do this also.
Padre Galinée was tilled with indignation by this advice.
Seizing an axe, he attacked the idol, and, in sight of the
awe-struck Indians, hewed it into many pieces. The
largest fragment he placed upon a canoe, rowed into the
middle of Detroit River, and hurled it overboard. For
all we know, it is resting in the depths of the river at
the present day.

Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes, and,
on this account, is the most stormy. <A strong wind
can, at any time, whip up large waves on the lake; and
if it comes from the southwest, the waves become foamy
billows, racing in upon the beach as great breakers.
Sometimes peninsulas, stretching out into the lake, are
cut through by the force of the waves and carried away.

(treat danger always calls forth heroes, and the heroes
of Lake Erie are legion. Every one has heard of John
Maynard, the pilot who steered the burning steamer
safe to shore, while he himself was slowly burning to
death at his post. As the vessel touched the land, and
a glad cry of thankfulness arose from the passengers
whose lives he had saved, Maynard’s blackened corpse
fell into the quiet bosom of the lake.

The heroine of Lake {vie is a Mrs. Becker. She
lived with her husband and little children on a low

Tome
feria eee or

scan ttn i DN ete
{raiatisus aeons

78 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

sandy island, whose only other inhabitant was the light-

house keeper. One night there came on a terrible
storm, which shook the small shanty and awoke Mrs.
Becker from sound sleep. Her husband was away
selling furs on the mainland, and there was no one
to comfort her frightened little ones but herself.

On looking out at daybreak, she found fragments of
the boat of a vessel at her door. Hastening instantly
to the shore, she peered into the gray gloom. At length
she distinguished the masts of a schooner, and, clinging
to them, dark objects that must be the crew. Back to
her cottage she rushea for matches and a teakettle,
and then hurried barefooted through the pitiless winter
storm for two miles along the shore. Soon a tire of
driftwood was blazing high. This was a beacon to the
shipwrecked sailors; and, to cheer them with the sight
of the presence of some human being, Mrs. Becket spent
all day upon the shore, pacing up and down before the
fire. She had hoped that the sailors might attempt to
swim to land; but the gray winter twilight was coming
on, and no one had ventured.

The wind arose. Evidently another dreadful night
was at hand. The case was desperate.

Mrs. Becker waded into the icy water until it was up
to her arms; then, as near to the drowning men as she
could go, she flung her arms above her head, and with
wild, desperate gestures strove to make them understand
that there was no boat to send cut and that their only
hope was to swim to shore.

The captain decided to make the dangerous attempt.
If he reached land in safety, the crew would follow.

mPa IE

erro

Smee cae
ee a

|
|

is the light-

| a terrible
woke Mrs.
was away
yas no one
self.
‘augments of
ig instantly
At length
rd, clinging
. Back to
v teakettle,
iless winter
na tire of
acon to the
h the sight
ecke? spent
before the
, attempt to
was coming

adful night

il it was up
men as she
d, and with
understand
t their only

us attempt.
yuld follow.

> Sinemet SA

ERIS ET

‘
iH
i
A
4

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 79

He was a strong, expert swimmer; but just as he rose
on his feet close to the shore, the treacherous undertow
flung him down and was hurrying him back to death.
But no! Mrs. Becker rushed into the surf, seized him,
and dragged him upon the shore.

One of the crew followed. The captain plunged into
the surf to aid his failing strength ; and once more the
undertow clutched them both, and would have drowned
them if Mrs. Becker had not again rushed to the rescue.

At last all the men from the wreck were safe on shore.
They warmed their half-frozen bodies at the driftwood
fire, and were filled with new vigor by draugits from
the teakettle.

The next day a passing vessel took them away. But
they did not forget Mrs. Becker. Everywhere, through-
out both Canada and the United States, the story of her
brave action is still told.

The Canadian Government gave her a farm of one
hundred acres looking out upon the scene of the rescue.
The merchants and shipowners of Buffalo contributed
one thousand dollars towards stocking her farm. The
Life-Saving Association of New York sent her a gold
medal. The simple-minded woman was overcome by all
these blessings, and constantly declared that “she did
no more ’n she ’d ought to, no more ’n she ‘d do again.”

Leaving Lake Erie, we pass into the Niagara River,
and approach the most celebrated spot in our whole
trip through the Great Lakes, —Niagara Falls, renowned
throughout the world.

Long ago, some Indian hunters, traveling through
the pathless feresis, heard a muffled, swelling murmur.

80 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Turning toward it, they came upon a sight of unutter-
able grandeur. The falls then were in the midst of
forests, and pines and, cedars balanced their slender
stems on the very verge of the gulf. With the sight
nearly blinding them, and the sound deafening them,
what wonder that to the Indians Niagara seemed to be
a powerful god whose favor must be humbly sought.

Every year they offered a sacrifice to the spirit of the
falls. A beautiful young girl was bound in a canoe and
set adrift above the cataract. Music was played to
drown her cries, while she passed over the edge of the
falls to her frightful death below. Though such hor-
rible customs are past now, yet it is said that Niagara
still claims its annual sacrifice, and that some one is
dashed over the falls each year.

The French explorers and priests gazed with awe and
admiration on this wonder of the New World. They
greatly e..aggerated its height, stating in their records
that if was six hundred or seven hundred feet high.
In reality it is one hundred and fifty feet.

Near the middle of the upper edge of the falls is a
wooded island. This is Goat Island, which separates
the American from the Canadian side, — the Horseshoe
Fall from the American Fall.

Perhaps the best idea of Niagara can be gained by
the view from Table Island, a small ledge of rock near
the edge of the Horseshoe Fall. Here the rush of the
rapids above the falls, the falls themselves, and the
abyss below, into which the water flings itself, can all
be seen.

Half a .:ile above the cataract, the river bed slopes

' unutter-
midst of
r slender
the sight
ing them,
med to be
ought.
irit of the
canoe and
played to
lge of the
such hor-
it. Niagara
me one is

h awe and
‘ld. They
oir records
feet high.

» falls is a
1 separates
Horseshoe

gained by
' rock near
rush of the
s, and the
elf, can all

bed slopes

=
.
4
z
5

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 81

— te

steeply, and here the Grand Rapids begin their wild
course. ‘The river is a seething mass of tossing, foam-
ing water. Here is the rushing of water over sunken
rocks; there the dangerous eddy of a whirlpool. Great
curves of clear green water and crescents of glittering
white foam all rush wildly on in apparent confusion,
but in real order and succession, down to the terrible
verge over which they madly plunge.

The Horseshoe is the larger fall. It is twice as
wide as the American Fall, and a much larger volume
of water passes over it. The volume of water passing
over the Horseshoe Fall is so immense that it is not
immediately broken into spray while descending, but
for some distance down the fall retains its perfect
smoothness.

In great knots and masses of crystalline green, it
roars into the gulf beneath, where it lies smothered by
its own weight, with only a quivering motion upon the
surface to tell of the mighty currents wrestling beneath.
The cauldron at the foot of the falls is a mass of foam,
with jets of water and spurts of spray steaming upward
from the very centre of the conflicting undercurrents.

The American Fall is not so grand and majestic as its
neighbor, but it possesses a beauty of its own. The fall-
ing water is dashed at once into spray, which bathes the
whole cataract. A light veil of mist hangs continu-
ally about it, and, in the sunshine, rainbow colors are
reflected from thousands of bright, falling waterdrops.

A fine view of Niagara could once be had from the
Suspension Bridge, which is a slender arch of iron,
spanning the river below the falls. But recently this

82 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

view has been cut off by a railroad bridge which has
been built across the river above the Suspension Bridge.

The Indian name of Niagara, which means “ thunder
of waters,” was a happy choice. The noise of the falling
water is so full, so complete, that one is hardly aware of
its volume, until he sees the’moving lips of his compan-
ions and realizes that he can hear no sound save the deep
thunder of tie cataract. In fact, both the sense of sight
and the sense of hearing are overpowered. They refuse
to act at the same time. When one sees, he cannot
hear. When he hears, he cannot see. It is a rest and
a relief at last to turn away from the tremendous roar
of Niagara.

In winter Niagara is a fairy scene. Every fence,
tree, shrub, and blade of grass upon which its spray
falls, is covered with a thin crust which sparkles and
glistens in the sunshine like mother-of-pearl.” From
the tips of the branches of the evergreen trees hang ice
balls, which the children call ice apples. The brow of
every cliff is crowned with snowy wreaths, and many-
tinted icicles hang from its face.

A thin, silvery sheet of water pours over the Ameri-
ean Fall, but half way down it is frozen into a thick
mist. The wave of the Horseshoe Fall, contrasted
with its snow-white surroundings, looks greener than
ever, as it crashes its way through the frost and ice
that would strive to bind it. The most beautiful rain-
bows span the fall from top to bottom. They never
remain the same, but break and again form their grace-
ful curves.

With the roar of Niagara dying in our ears, we de-

ATTY steer pmemeeeee,
er

i
|

vhich has
n Bridge.
«thunder
he falling
-aware of
3 compan-
e the deep
se of sight
hey refuse
he cannot
v rest and
ious roar

ery fence,
its spray
irkles and
rl.” From
3 hang ice
he brow of
and many-

the Ameri-
ito a thick
contrasted
eener than
st and ice
utiful rain-
They never
their grace-

ears, we de-

|
|

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 83

———o

scend the Niagara River and enter Ontario, the small-
esi of the Great Lakes.

Its shores are low and fertile, and many farms slope
gently downward to its quiet waters. The scenes on
either hand are very peaceful and restful, as we plough
our way across the lake to Kingston, a great grain-
shipping centre at the entrance to the St. Lawrence
River. Here our trip through the Great Lakes ceases,
and our river journey begins.

CHAPTER VII.
DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

Are you thoroughly rested after your journey through
the Lakes? Do you waut another long sail? This time
we will follow the course of the river St. Lawrence
from Lake Ontario to the sea, periups stopping here
and there for a glance up one or twe cf its larger trib-
utaries.

Taking the beautiful white steamer at Kingston, we
steam away eastwardly over as blue waters and under as
fair a sky as heart could desire. Presently we enter
the Lake of the Thousand Islands. That is the name
given to the river for the first forty miles of its course
after leaving Lake Ontario. |

It is so called because its surface is studded every-
where with islands, —some a mere bit of rock or tuft
of grass, others much larger. They are called the

84 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Thousand Islands; but in reality there are sixteen
hundred of them.

They are very beautiful in the clear sunshine. Some
of the islands have high, rocky faces, covered with the
pale green and gray of clinging lichens, and crowned
with plumy masses of evergreens. Others are lower,
with small, white, sandy beaches, and with maples and
birches trailing their lowest branches in the calm waters,
upon which float great white and gold pond lilies. The
steamer follows its winding course, avoiding those isl-
ands from which beds of rushes and sedges spread out
toward the middle of the stream. Every turn in the
course reveals some charming vista.

It occurs to you that these narrow channels, winding
among myriads of islands, all so much alike, would be
a capital place for a game of hide-and-seek. With a
boat, a man who knew this region could hide himself
from any one. So thought Bill Johnson, who, with
other outlaws, had burned the ship “ Sir Robert Peel.”
He was rowed in a canoe from island to island by his
daughter Kate, a brave girl who kept her father hidden
and supplied with food for some time.

Leaving the Thousand Islands, the St. Lawrence
broadens and forms Lake St. Francis, the first of a series
of lakes named for the old French saints by the early
explorers. The shores of Lake St. Francis are covered
with woods and farms. The very quiet and peaceful
view is bounded by a distant range of blue mountains,
which are the Adirondacks of New York.

The St. Lawrence now contracts into two distinct

series of rapids, —the Cedar Rapids and the Cascade.

a i eae |

Pacis eatecat |

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 85

After the excitement of shooting these rapids is over,
we find ourselves on another expansion of the St. Law-
rence, called Lake St. Louis. The island of Montreal

sixteen

SARs eee

Fi a

1, Some

with the
crowned
re lower,
yples and
m waters,
ies. The
those isl-
pread out
rn in the

;, winding
would be
, With a
le himself
who, with
bert Peel.”
and by his
her hidden

Lawrence
t of a series
y the early
are covered
id peaceful
mountains,

wo distinct

he Cascade.

lies to the northeast and the Ottawa River to the west.

This river is the largest tributary of the St. Lawrence.
It flows from the great forest regions in Northern Ontario
and bears downward to the St. Lawrénce the logs,
cribs, and large rafts which are prepared by the lum-
bermen. Its yellowish brown current hardly seems to
mingle with the blue waters of the St. Lawrence.

Just at this point a cross has been erected upon a
high mound on the eastern shore. It has been placed
there for mariners to look to in times of peril, and
reminds one that, before mooring in safety in the harbor
of Montreal, the Lachine Rapids are to be passed.

As we pass a bend in the river, @ mass of breakers
come in sight, bathing with flying spray two small
islands in their midst. The rush of the river bears us
onward, and now we are in the breakers, turning in one
direction, reeling in the opposite direction, and being
generally tossed and rocked about. The Indian pilot,
firm as a rock, stands at the wheel with his eyes fixed
upon the shore.

Soon calmer water is reached; and at length we enter
the fine harbor of Montreal, recognizing with a thrill
of pleasure the old landmarks, Bonsecours Church and
Notre Dame.

One night is to be passed in the city, and, while we
travelers are resting, I shall improve the opportunity
vy telling you something of the capital of the Dominion
of Canada.

, J

86 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

If we had followed that brown river, the Ottawa, from
where it joined the blue St. Lawrence up among. the
hills and forests, we should have come to a city perched
on the river bluffs close by two large falls. This is
Ottawa, the capital of Canada.

About thirty years ago Kingston, Toronto, and Que-
bee were all quarreling as to which of them should be
the capital of the new government. Finally the queen
was appealed to; and, passing over all the older, prouder
cities, she selected a small, half savage place called
Bytown and named it Ottawa.

Ottawa is the centre of the lumber region, and _ its
wonderful water power is used to turn innumerable
mills. There are mills for making pails and matches,
and sawmills where the buzz and hiss of saws cutting
through logs is heard day and night. But however
proud Ottawa may be of her wealth in lumbe?, she is
proudest of all of the two buildings which mark her as
the first city in the land,—the Parliament House and
ficeau Hall.

‘the Parliament. buildings are situated on a hill, and
their towers can be seen from all parts of the city.
With their extensive grounds they cover four acres and
have cost five millions of dollars. They form three sides
of a huge square, which is covered with beautifully kept
grass crossed by broad gravel walks. The buildings
are of cream-colored sandstone, with trimmings of warm
red sandstone. ‘The combination of the cream and the
red is very pleasing to the eye.

The chambers for the senate and for the commons are *
in the central building, at the head of the square. The

wa, from
ong the
- perched

This is

and Que-
should be
she queen
», prouder
we called

1, and its
aumerable
| matches,
vs cutting
t however
ber, she is
ark her as
House and

a hill, and
{ the city.
r acres and
three sides
tifully kept
e buildings
gs of warm
am and the

ommons are ©

juare. The

aisttod

WOYNVS ‘YMYLLO ‘SONICTING LINSWYITeVd

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

88 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

ee ee Be

halls are alike in their shape and in the general arrange-
ment of the furniture. The speaker's desk is at one
side of the lower house; a narrow aisle leads to it, on
either side of which the desks of the members rise in
tiers.

The library is in the central building, back of the two
chambers. It is a great, beautiful room, well planned
for reading purposes. ‘The woodwork is elegantly
carved, and the room is further adorned by a marble
statue of Queen Victoria, and marble busts of the
Prince and Princess of Wales.

The governor general of Canada is appointed by the
queen. He is often a nobleman. Canada has been
very fortunate in her governors, for they have been
singularly able men, thoroughly alive to all that would
promote the growth of the country under their rule.
Kindly Lord Dufferin was dearly loved by the Cana-
dians, and the late governor general of Canada, the
Marquis of Lorne, and his gracious wife, the Princess
Louise, daughter of the queen, have left behind them
very pleasant memories. Rideau Hall was a gay and
lively place both in summer and winter, under their
sway.

The house itself, a large, rambling building of plas-
ter, brick, and stone, is unpretentious, and, if the truth
must be told, extremely ugly when viewed from the
outside. But within, Rideau Hall is charming. There
have been many additions to the building from time to
time, and a house that has grown in this way always
has nooks and corners, stairs here and stairs there, that
are thoroughly delightful.

arrange-
s at one
to it, on
‘srise in

f the two

planned
elegantly
a marble
s of the

ad by the
has been
ave been
hat would
heir rule.
the Cana-
nada, the
y Princess
hind them
a gay and
nder their

ng of plas-
the truth
1 from the
ng. ‘There
om time to
vay always
there, that

j
)
\
\

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 89

a Se

Then, too, it is situated in the midst of beautiful
grounds covering ninety acres in extent. At one point
in the driveway leading to the house, a circular open-
ing has been cut through the trees, giving a beautiful
outlook upon the Ottawa River. This is called the
Princess’ Vista, because the leaf-bordered window was
opened at the request of the Princess Louise.

The sail from Montreal to Quebec is somewhat mo-
notonous. On each side are narrow, fertile strips of
farms, white, dusty roads, and cottages clustering about
some high-shouldered, steep-roofed church with its glit-
tering tin spire.

Presently lofty Cape Diamond, crowned with the
gray walls of Quebec, appears, and we glide slowly by
the city, getting many a glimpse of the busy life in the
market place and on the wharves. That white streak on
the left, in the midst of purple shadows and dense trees,
is Montmorency Falls. The Isle of Orleans with its
green and fertile farms is just ahead.

At this point the river suddenly broadens, and flows
steadily onward to the sea. It is here that the first
swell of the ocean tides is felt; but the salt taste of sea
water is not found in the St. Lawrence for one hundred
miles more.

The mountains now approach the north shore, where
they tower up dark and lonely, clothed with evergreens
and with oaks, poplars, and birches. Here and there
they are parted by a swift stream or river, and a glimpse
into the heart of the hills is obtained that is really
depressing; such a bleak, desolate, awfully grand region
does it disclose.

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90 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

——so—

The mountains on the southern shore of the St.
Lawrence do not approach as near to the river bank
as do those on the northern shore. The rivers rising
here are slow and winding, and dark with the rich soil
which they carry along. ‘The shore is thickly settled.
Farmhouses, villages, and now and then a populous
town, succeed one another in an endless procession.

Here are the popular summer resorts of the Cana-
dians, — St. Paul Bay and Murray Bay on the northern
shore, and Cacouna on the southern.

On the north shore, opposite Cacouna, is the mouth
of the Saguenay River. This is a great, deep river,
that rises among dark and lonesome hills, and, flowing
through most grand and awful scenery, silently pours
its inky waters into the sparkling St. Lawrence.

The steamer pauses for a few hours at, Tadoussac, at
the mouth of the Saguenay, and there is time-for a
stroll about the town. It is built on wooded heights
sloping down to a semicircular bay, which is so small
that only ten or twelve ships at a time can anchor there
in safety. From the hills covered with spruces, back
of the town, a magnificent view is obtained.

The full breadth of the St. Lawrence lies before you,
smooth as glass; and, gazing past the numerous islands’
lying peacefully on its calm surface, you can faintly
distinguish a light blue line. It is the south shore
twenty-five miles away, which can be seen only on clear,
bright days.

Lord Dufferin used to spend his vacations at Ta-
doussac. It had many advantages for a summer resi-
dence. Steamers passed there daily, so the governor

the St.
ver bank
srs. Vising
rich soil
y settled.
populous
sion.
he Cana-
northern

ie mouth
‘ep river,
l, flowing
tly pours

sy
")

oussac, at
me-for a
L heights
so small
hor there
ices, back

fore you,
us islands
n_ faintly
uth shore
ron clear,

is at Ta-
imer resi-
governor

nen RL TT LCA RRR NE RLS RNR SN PE MSI SAE LE:

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 91

could keep posted as to the daily news; then the nat-
ural attractions of Tadoussac were great. It was in the
midst of beautiful scenery, and still grander scenery
could be easily reached by taking a steamer up the
Saguenay. There was also fine fishing and hunting in
the neighborhood.

Tadoussac is connected with the past by no less than
three interesting relics. Here can be seen the battery
of Jacques Cartier, the early explorer of Canada; the
old, weather-worn hut that once belonged to the Hudson
Bay Company ; and last and greatest attraction of all,
a littie Jesuit church, which is two hundred and fifty
years old. Next to the church in St. Augustine, in
Florida, it is the oldest in America.

Once more the steamer is sailing up the Saguenay.
On eagh side it is walled in by cliffs over a thousand
feet high, which rise directly from the water's edge.
Beneath them the dark river flows sluggishly along.
The further any one sails on this st ‘ange river, tlre more
awful and impressive does it become.

The loneliness of the scene is overwhelming. The
gleam of the white fins of a porpoise, the whirl of a
gull overhead, and the distant flash of a sail only make
one realize more fully the great silence and the absence
of human life. The scream of the loon is startling.

The story that a party of early French explorers
sailed up the Saguenay and were never seen again,
seems quite in harmony with the impression the river
has left upon the mind. A vessel might sink in these
mysterious, dark waters, and the cliffs might echo and
reécho with the despairing cries of drowning men, and

oOo
to

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a hed

the great, busy world be never the wiser. The Sayue-
nay keeps its own counsel.

The passengers are now arranging themselves on one
side of the steamer so as best to see Cape Eternity.
This is a perpendicular shaft of rock rising from the
river. The eye follows the clear reflection down into
the water, and then, returning to the cliff itself, moves
up and up its towering heights of fifteen hundred feet
to the very clouds. ‘The top of the cliff, crowned with
bushy pines, leans forward and seems about to totter
and fall.

As the steamer moves beneath its shadow, many a
passenger feels the same dizzy sensation that often over-
takes one while standing on the edge of a precipice.
The water at the base of Cape Eternity is of unknown
depth. The face of the cliff is weather-stained, and
here and there a spring of water trickles down. -

Cape Trinity is a little farther up the river on the
same side. Though three hundred feet higher than its
sister cliff, Cape Trinity does not seem so terrible as
Cape Eternity. It slopes gently backward from the
river, and is clothed to the summit with dense ranks of
tall pines. The cliff has been rent by the mighty force
of fire or earthquake into three divisions, and so has
been named Trinity.

Sixty miles more of bleak and rugged hills bring us
to Ha Ha Bay. This bay was first entered by a gay
party of French explorers who thought they were follow-
ing the river. Discovering their blunder, they burst
into peals of laughter, and named the bay that had so
deceived them, Ha Ha.

a ere nme een

1e Sayue-

es on one
Kternity.
from the
lown into
elf, moves
dred. feet
vned with
to totter

y, many a
ften over-
precipice.
unknown
rined, and
ne.

rer on the
er than its
terrible as
from the
se ranks of
ighty force
ind so has

Is bring us
| by a gay
ere follow-
they burst
shat had so

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 93

It is a great relief to find this cheerful little nook
nestled among the solemn hills. People are cutting
down trees, running mills, and picking berries. ‘The
common everyday matters of life are going on, even
though the place is near the gloomy and awful
Sayvuenay.

But we must tarry no longer on this tributary of the
St. Lawrence, however beautiful it may be, but hasten
back to the main stream. Past the Saguenay River,
the shores of the St. Lawrence recede very rapidly from
each other. Presently the farther shore seems but a
faint mist on the horizon line. And now the salt
breeze blows in our faces; the swell of the river be-
comes that of the sea; and finally the St. Lawrence,
its long task of draining a continent over, joyously,
leaps into the sea. ~

CHAPTER VIII.
QUAINT OLD QUEBEC.

Over three hundred years ago the King of France
gave three vessels to a brave and good navigator named
Jacques Cartier. He was instructed to follow the river
St. Lawrence, whose entrance he had discovered a year
before, and see if he could not reach India.

Even the wisest men in those days did not know so
much geography as a boy of ten does to-day. But the
mistaken idea was a good one on some accounts, for it
led to the thorough exploration of many of our large

ental NN AE PRU RINE,

94 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-7--—

rivers on the Atlantic coast. The James aud Hudson
were taken for routes to India, as well as the St. Law-
rence.

Cartier was to take possession of all the land for fair
France, and to bring back to his gracious sovereign yel-
low gold and fine pearls from India. His stanch little
vessels breasted the Atlantic surges, and came fluttering
up the river, looking to the astonished Indians like great,
white-winged waterfowl from some unknown country
across the sea.

They sailed on and on up this mighty river, which
was almost broad enough for a sea. After they had
followed its course for three hundred miles, they saw
before them a great red rock projecting into the stream.
A green bluff on the opposite shore stretched towards
the rock; and thus the bed of the river was narrowed
at this point to only three-quarters of a mile. :

Cartier landed, climbed the rock, and looked around
him. Over three hundred feet below rolled the great
river. He could have dropped a stone into its waters
as they lapped the foot of the rock. From both shores
vast plains stretched away. The green turf and ancient
forests bore testimony to the fertility of the soil. Blue
mountain peaks forty miles distant formed an appropri-
ate setting for this beautiful view.

Did Cartier see in a vision the city that was to be?
Did he see the river, so clearly marked out as one of the
great water ways of the world, alive witli craft of every
description? Did he picture great ships from all over
the world riding at anchor in the harbor ?

Something of this he undoubtedly saw; for a man

Stic:

i
i
i
4

Hudson
St. Law-

| for fair
eign yel-
ich little
luttering
ke great,

country

er, which
they had
they saw
e stream.
towards
narrowed
d around
the great
its waters
th shores
d ancient
il. Blue
appropri-

as to be?
one of the
t of every
m all over

or a man

i
3
a
]
|
i
i

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 95

of his experience could but realize that this was the
commanding point of the river, the key of the country.
His heart swelled with hope and trust in what was to
be. All this beautiful region he gave to God, to France,
and to his king.

Fifty years afterward, Champlain founded the city of
Quebec. The name which he gave it means narrow-
ing, and refers to the narrowing of the St. Lawrence
at this point. Champlain was a great explorer. He
discovered the Richelieu River and Lake Champlain.
He sailed up the Ottawa, visited Lake Ontario for the
first time, and founded Montreal.

Champlain was devoted to the interests of his little
colony. Twenty times he crossed the ocean to inter-
cede, in her behalf, with the home government. And
crossing the ocean in those days was a much longer and
a much more dangerous undertaking than it is now.

His treaties with the Indians were never broken.
With the single exception of the Iroquois, he won all
the Indians for his firm friends; and the influence of
the French over them was still more increased by the
arrival of Jesuit priests.

Champlain was an ardently religious man. He first
gave Quebec that strong religious bent which it has
kept to the present day. There are now five times the
number of churches needed for the population, and it
was relatively so in the seventeenth century.

One of the chief objects of the French in settling
Quebec was to Christianize the Indians; and early in
the history of the settlement a band of Jesuits arrived
for this purpose. They were brave, devoted men who

96 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—~-o-o-—

were willing to suffer all manner of privations to accom-
plish their ends. Many of them lived for years in the
wigwams of Indian families, wandering where they wan-
dered, hunting, bearing’ burdens, suffering from cold and
hunger —all to gain the love of the savage people.

So it naturally came to pass that the Indians were
devoted to the French and their interests. ‘This fact
was asad one for the English. In the eighteenth cen-
tury there were a number of wars between the two
nations, in which the Indians were most terrible foes to
the English. Many an outlying settlement was burned
in the dead of night and the people brutally massacred.

Winter stopped the action of the French and English
armies; but on their snowshoes the red men could easily
and quickly make their way to any region, and the
settlers never felt safe from their stealthy assaults.

The old citadel of Quebec, on the summit of the rock,
has been besieged five times. Sir William Pepperell,
governor of Massachusetts, and his besieging army were
once triumphantly driven away. The citizens, to cele-
brate this victory, built a little church called Our Lady
of the Victory.

At the time of its erection a nun prophesied that this
church was to be burned by the English, who would
conquer the city at some future date. ‘The prophecy
came true. In 1759, in the last and most terrible of
the Indian wars, Quebec was taken by the English
under Wolfe.

‘4

Wolfe and his men floated silently down the St. Law-
rence to a sheltered little cove ; how they climbed the

Every schoolboy knows the story of the capture: how

to accom-
vrs in the
they wan-
1 cold and
ople.
lians were
This fact
eenth cen-
1 the two
ble foes to
vas burned
massacred.
ud English
ould easily
1, and the
assaults.
f the rock,
Pepperell,
army were
ns, to cele-

| Our Lady

ad that this
who would
e prophecy
terrible of
he English

upture: how
he St. Law-
slimbed the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 7

steep ascent to the Heights of Abraham, dragging their
single cannon after them; how Montealm, the gallant
French commander, came from the city to meet his
equally gallant foe; and how the French were defeated,
and both leaders slain.

The dying words of both captains have often been
repeated by schoolboys whose hearts swell with emotion
at the noble deaths of these brave men. Wolfe, dying
on the battlefield, when told that the French were flying,
said, “God be praised ; I die happy.” Monteal, dying
in the quiet shelter of the Ursuline Convent, when told
that he should only live a few hours, answered, * So
much the better; I shall not live to see the surrender
of Quebee.”

With the fall of Quebec Canada passed into the hands
of the English, and ever since it has been the most yal-
ued foreign possession of Great Britain.

Although belonging to the English, the city is thor-
oughly French in its appearance. It resembles the
French cities of the seventeenth century, aud its princi-
pal charm is that, although situated so near the bustling
life of our nineteenth century, it yet maintains ¢ spirit
of remoteness and antiquity. It is the constant delight
of tourists who love to awaken in themselves reminis-
cences of the castles and cathedrals of Europe.

Travelers by boat often reach Quebec early in the
morning, and the first glimpse of the city is a sight
never to be forgotten. The great rock towers above
the river. Its base is enveloped by mist; but the pur-
ple and red lights of its crown are brought out clearly
by the morning sunshine.

Be naan RAR ene ahs Aft am en rRNA OR a RV NE

SPF INN YS Oe

(oom ant RE a AEE Tin he, fe

rae BEAR SEIT a

eases rity

98 THE WORLD ANDO ITS PEOPLE.

—e-e-0—

At its feet flows the river, covered with craft of every
description, — great foreign-looking ships, white and
black steamers, and noisy little tug boats plying their
busy way from shore’ to shore. At the foot of the
crag and along its slopes are the houses of the lower
town. The summit is edged with the famous gray wall,
and topped by the citadel. Over all floats the scarlet
flag of England with the St. George’s cross.

The rock on which the citadel is built is called Cape
Diamond, because of the erystals of quartz which have
been found there. Cape Diamond is very abrupt on
the southeastern or river side, but towards the north-
west it slopes downward into the table-lands which line
the St. Lawrence for eight miles.

All the elevated land is surrounded by a wall which
closely skirts the bluff for some distance, and then cuts
across the table-lands a mile back of the citadel The
land inclosed by the wall forms the upper town, which
contains most of the public buildings, dwelling houses,
and small stores.

The lower town skirts the foot of Cape Diamond,
extends up the slopes to the gray walls, and stretches
away over the plains to the north and west. Here are
found the: wholesale stores and the business and com-
mercial blocks.

The upper town is reached from the lower town in
three ways, — by a zigzag road leading up Mountain
Street, by such a very steep flight of steps that they are
known as Breakneck Stairs, and by an elevator which
is not used in winter.

If we climb Breakneck Stairs, we come to Dufferin

, of every
hite and
ing their
ot of the
the lower
rray wall,
he scarlet

led Cape
hich have
brupt on
he north-
vhich line

all which
then cuts
del. The
wn, which
ig houses,

Diamond,
l stretches
Here are
and com-

r town in
Mountain
ut they are
itor which

> Dufferin

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 99

—-2-o—

Terrace. This is a magnificent promenade laid out on
the edge of the cliff two hundred feet above the water.
The platform, as we night cail it, is two hundred feet
wide. The people who have been cramped in the nar
row, crooked streets all day, come in the evening to
this wide, free, breezy space, and walk, talk, and gaze
upon the view to their heart's content.

Here and there on the edge of the terrace summer-
houses or pavilions have been erected wherever the pros-
pect is finest. And indeed the outlook is a magnificent
one.

The last rays of the setting sun linger on the steep
tin roofs of the houses of the lower town, making them
appear like molten gold. The river rolls on its tran-
quil way between the green shores and the narrow,
regular farms which run like ribbons from the river to
the road.

As the evening wears on, the promenaders increase.
There are a few young Englishmen, and some American
travelers; but the majority of the people are French of
the middle class. Here is the grave lawyer, tall and
thin, with his profession unmistakably carved in the
severe lines on his face. Many groups of young people
ae seen. The girls are pretty, and are dressed in old-
fashioned style. The young men are dressed more
gayly. They wear bright-colored ties and gay scarfs,
With perhaps a few superfluous rings.

Now it is deep twilight. The huge bulk of the cita-
del rises to the right. The streets of the lower town
begin to be defined by dotted lines of light, as the lamp-
lighter goes on his rounds. Lights swarm up the oppo-

LL AA LLAMA ALLA AA tile a ieee nama,

100 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

site slope of Point Levi, and cluster thickly in the har-
bor where the shipping lies.

Suddenly a strange, wew brightness appears in’ the
heavens. A glowing arch spans the northern sky, and
quivering darts of pale violet and delicate crimson shoot
from it to the zenith. It is the aurora borealis, the
wonder of the north!

Only too soon the sky is dark again, and, warned of
the lateness of the hour by a deep boom from the cita-
del gun, we leave the terrace, carrying with us as one
of the richest of our Quebec experiences, this vision
from Dufferin Terrace.

sy day the terrace is almost deserted. Only a few
nursemaids with their charges visit the quiet, sunny
spot. The children play around the old gun carriages
and the piles of cannon-balls which are stacked on the
terrace. ;

Back of Dufferin Terrace is the Governor's Garden.
This was a much frequented spot in earlier days, but
now it is somewhat neglected. Very few persons are
seen walking down the shady paths, where formerly
thronged the nobility and wealth of the city.

Its chief attraction is a stately monument to Mont-
calm and Wolfe. The obelisk, sixty-five feet high,
bears a Latin inscription to the two heroes. It was
a happy thought to unite by a common monument
“the memory of those who fell in fight against each
other, as closely as if they had both died for the same
cause.”

From the western end of Dufferin Terrace a flight of
several hundred steps leads to the top of the grassy

;
:
:
4

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 101
the har- bank on which the fortifications are built. By follow-
ing the narrow pathway, we reach the entrance to the

- in the citadel.
sky, and We pass through the chain gates and stand in the
mn shoot } parade ground. Opposite is the dark, heavy structure

;
g
4
{

lis, the of Dalhousie Gate. But notwithstanding its grim
aspect, the scene is one of peace. The top of the
arned of walls and ramparts are overgrown with grass, upon
the cita- which several goats are tranquilly feeding.
sas one Passing Dalhousie Gate we are fairly within the cita-
iS. Vision del, und a bewildering array of walls, ramparts, and
ditches stretches away in all directions. As we follow
y a few the zigzag lines with our eyes, we can well believe
tL, sunny that the fortress covers forty acres. The strongest fort
in the Old World is on the Rock of Gibraltar. When
Quebee was first built, its walls were so thick and
strong that it was called “ The Gibraltar of America.”
The ramparts overgrown with grass form delightful
promenades and command beautiful views in all diree-
tions. Here may be seen the guns taken from the
Americans at Bunker Hill. At one place in the forti-
fications a feather is carved in the stone wall. The
red-coated soldier explains that once, as the Prince of
Wales was reviewing the citadel, the feather fell from
his cap upon this very stone. An officer, anxious to
preserve the memory of this little incident of the
prince’s visit, afterwards carved this feather. Whether
the story is true or not, it shows very clearly the de-
voted, almost touching, loyalty of Canada to England,
The married soldiers have rooms built in the interior

of the massive earthwork. Light and air are supplied

ALTLAgES
Lon the

Garden.
lays, but
‘sons are

formerly

to. Mont-
et high,

It was
onument
nst each
the same

flight of
ie grassy

iA Raga

ee ZO er ig

102 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE

—

by deep windows. It would seem strange to us io eat
and sleep with the solid earth banked above and around
us. But the home of the soldier seems a very natural
and dear place to him. -

The Basilica, the Catholic cathedral, is one of the
noted landmarks of the city. Although not as magniti-
cent as the cathedral of Notre Dame in Montreal, still
it is a very handsome building of cut stone. The front
of the church is massive, with a tower in one corner
and a spire on the other.

Entering the church, you are impressed with the bril-
liancy of the interior. The coloring is white and gold,
and there is much rich ornamentation. Many fine paint-
ings, which were sent to Canada for safe keeping at the
time of the French Revolution, adorn the walls. One
by one the worshipers enter the church and dip their
fingers in the holy water placel near the door; then
they prostrate themselves before the glittering high
altar or before some modest shrine. Solemn officers,
decorated with gold lace, move softly about. The
swinging censers waft fragrant incense toward you.

As you stand there in the shadowy church, you
realize that now you are close to the real heart and life
of Quebee. This church and the convents, schools, and
hospitals which have sprung up beneath its shadow,
have really been the guiding influences in the history
of the city from the earliest times.

In front of the cathedral is a stand for drivers of
caléches and other carriages. The caldche, or one-horse
chaise, is seen in the streets of Quebec as often as the
gondola is seen at Venice, or the emigrants’ wagon on

re to us 10 eat
ove and around
@ very natural

is one of the
not as magnifi-
Montreal, still
ne. The front
in one corner

1 with the bril-
hite and gold,
lany fine paint-
keeping at the
ie walls. One
and dip their
he door; then
littering high
olemn. officers,
about. The
toward you.
church, you
heart and life
s, schools, and
h its shadow,
in the history

for drivers of
2, or one-horse
s often as the
nts’ wagon on

il AcAy SEARSA TLL SA AC SNSOR Oa Le DG

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 1038

the plain. The body of the caléche is shaped like the
bowl of a large spoon; it is supported upon two strong,
leather straps which take the place of springs. These
straps can be loosened or tightened so as to give the
occupant of the carriage every kind of a jolt, from a
rather agreeable rocking motion to an upset. There
are two seats, — one for two passengers, and another on
the dashboard for the driver. Wings extend from both
sides over the wheels, and prevent the mud from splash-
ing the occupants.

When the caléche drivers see a person with the air of
a tourist wandering through the cathedral square, they
rush toward him in a body, each one urging the victim
to hire his carriage. The horses meanwhile calmly
munch corn from their head bags.

There are scores of convents in Quebee. Each street
has one and sometimes two or three of these buildings,
whose high stone walls often adjoin one another. The
convents and the monasteries are gigantic when com-
pared with the ordinary Canadian dwelling house.

One of the oldest and most famous is the Ursuline
Convent. This was founded by Madame de la Peltrie
in the early days of the colony. Madame de la Peltrie
was a beautiful and good young widow who was anxious
to use her wealth in educating Indian girls. So she
came to this wild country and founded the Ursuline
Convent in Quebec.

The original building is standing yet, although two
centuries ago everything but the walls was burnt. The
ancient walls of gray stone are surmounted by a steep
roof covered with tin. The pretty chapel stands at the

- —— cannon amen iad
Res

pretation
nee iain

Ss a a a a NDT

104 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—~--0

right. While you are gazing at the building, a door
opens and a crowd of brown-eyed little girls hasten into
the street. Sidonie, Marie, Therese, — these are the
names they are calling to one another. They are the
modern little maidens who have succeeded the dark
Huron girls in the convent.

The efforts of the Ursuline nuns to convert the
daughters of the Indians were not very successful, and
as there are now very few Hurons alive, the nuns teach
the Catholic girls of Quebec.

Back of the convent, surrounded by a high stone
wall, is a large and beautiful garden, A large ash,
under which Madame de la Peltrie was accustomed to
teach the Indian girls, stood in the centre of the garden
until, a few years ago, it was blown down in a storm.
Now the spot is marked by a large black cross. Around
the cross a number of paths wind and turn in all di-
rections between clumps of fragrant lilacs and rows of
slender hollyhocks. Here the nuns often walk with
their pupils; and their sweet voices and the joyous
laughter of the girls are sometimes faintly heard in the
neighboring street.

The dress of the Ursuline nuns is black, with a black
veil falling down from the back of the head. The face
is surrounded with white linen, and a kind of kerchief
of the same material covers the shoulders and reaches
to the waist.

Montcalm died in this convent, and was buried in
the garden where a cannon ball struck. On the walls
of the chapel is a tablet to his memory, on which

is written in French, “Honor to Montealm! Destiny

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 105

_—-s--—

r, a door j in depriving him of victory, requited him with a glori-

>]
isten into ous death!” They have his skull in the convent, and
are the are very willing to show it to visitors. It is kept in a
y are the small glass box, bound with black and covered with a
the dark bit of white lace drapery.

The houses of Quebec are mostly very small and
vert the quaint. They are only one story or one story and a
sful, and | half high, and are built either of stone or of plastered
Ins teach { brick. The high roofs are sheathed in ¢littering tin,

i and have one or two vows of dormer windows. ‘The
gh stone i Canadians are very fond of bright flowers, and their
ge ash, windows are often crowded with scarlet geraniums.
omed to The doors are generally painted a bright color, differ-
e garden ent from that of the house itself. They are further
a storm. | ornamented by shining brass knockers and by large
Around ] plates bearing the owner’s name and _ possibly his title.

n all di-
rows of
lk with
) joyous
(Lin the

* Monsieur Blanc, avocat,”’ we read from one bright
8

green door. This means in English, “ Mr. White, Law-
yer.” The doorsteps are covered with bright, clean
v oOo
oil cloth.

The wooden sidewalks and roughly paved, narrow

fun) ©
streets are very clean. The streets are winding and
o

a black steep, and in the upper town are frequently terminated
Y ] l

The face by a breadth of the city wall pierced with loopholes for
kerchief muskets. Sometimes a cannon will be resting near the
reaches wall.

There were formerly five gates to the town. But
they were found too small and narrow for the increasing
business of the city, and within a score of years they
have all disappeared. Three fine new entrances have
been erected, but their newness does not harmonize

vied in
le Walls
| Which
Destiny

eee RE

seen

ROA Sr SARIS Ye ere

aS raster

har nasal snare een

‘ ican Sk RDN IE LT Eh

106 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

with the ancient historic wali of which they form a
part. Tourists regret the absence of the old gates.

One can spend hours looking out of the window at
the passers-by, they are so varied in appearance and in
dress. Here are stout, broad-featured country women
in plain skirts and wide straw hats, either walking into
town with the basket containing the small wares they
offer for sale, or driving in small, brightly painted
wooden carts. Handsome young officers in their scarlet
uniforms mingle with the grave priests, who continually
lift their broad-brimmed hats in passing. Here and
there is visible a trim, blue-coated French policeman.
Down the narrow wooden sidewalk comes a bevy of
French schoolgirls, with dark eyes and smoothly
braided hair. A pale, sweet-faced nun glides swiftly
by with downcast eyes. A butcher's boy with his tray
upon his shoulder passes with a run and a whoop, He
is the only noisy one in the quiet throng.

There is another monument to Wolfe which we must
see before leaving the city. This is on the Plains of
Abraham, where the battle was fought that gave Quebec
to the English. These plains do not seem like a battle-
field. The sun shines warmly upon the green turf, and
the birds sing sweetly. It does not seem possible that
this quiet, rural spot was the scene of slaughter, or that
this grass was ever stained with blood.

The column raised to Wolfe’s memory is erected on
the spot where he died. It is surmounted by a bronze
helmet and sword, and bears the simple but eloquent
inscription, “ Here fell Wolfe, victorious.”

There are many beautiful drives about Quebec. But

sei said it nates

4
|
'
i
i
3
;
{

a a ae ee eer od

oranges

: OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 107

eo
- form a perhaps the most attractive one is that to Montmorency
ites. Falls, through the village of Beauport. When we are
indow at at some little distance from Quebec, the driver points
e and in backward with his whip, saying, “Behold the silver
* women city!” We hastily turn and see what appears indeed a
<ing into silver city. The afternoon sun shines brightly on the
res they steep, tin roofs and causes them to appear like molten
painted i silver.
ir scarlet ; The tin roofs throughout Canada have really a charm-
ntinually ‘ ing effect. Exposure to the weather changes them to =
ere and tints of steel gray and grayish green, with patches of
iceman. i dark brown wherever the rust gathers. Under the
bevy of i strung sunlight, the roofs at a distance have the effect

smoothly
s swiftly
his tray
op. He

of gold or silver.

And now, after passing a stretch of fields and wood-
lands, we draw near the fall of Montmorency. It is
two hundred and fifty feet high, and, on account of its
extreme narrowness, it seems even higher. It is not
so grand as Niagara, because it does not compare with
it in size; but it is much more beautiful. <A_ bright,
foamy cloud, that glints and gleams in the sunlight,
and appears of a lovely cream tint,—this is Mont-
morency. Firs and spruces stand on the summit of
the cliff. Wild flowers border the banks. The whole
effect of the fall is so beautiful that the idea of its
great power hardly enters the mind; but it is a fact that
the water power generated here is used to create the
electric current which lights the city of Quebec eight
miles away.

we must
-lains of
. Quebec
a battle-
burf, and
ble that
, or that

EN ct aa sf he lhe dt aE MANN he

ected on
i bronze
sloquent

ec. But

108 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

CHAPTER IX.
FRENCH CANADIAN FARM LIFE,

The province of Quebec is exceedingly fertile, and
the chief occupation of the people living outside the
cities is farming. Nearly all the farmers are the
descendants of the early French settlers, and they
retain, in a remarkable degree, the ancient customs of
working and living.

The farmers south of the St. Lawrence River are near
the United States, and, influenced by that country, have
alopted some of the modern improvements in farming.
But the settlers north of the St. Lawrence receive no
such favorable influence, and plod along in their slow
and patient way, exactly as their ancestors did two
hundred years ago.

From Montreal down to the sea, with the single
exception of the large towns, French is spoken. Eng-
lish is almost an unknown tongue. Passing through
the country one sees and hears only the legends, songs,
superstitions, and customs of the Norman peasant of
the time of Louis XIV., the great monarch of France
in the seventeenth century.

French Canada might be described as two continuous
villages, extending along the northern and southern
shores of the St. Lawrence, in belts from two to ten
miles wide. The farms near the river were once very
large, but, owing to the custom of dividing the land for
each generation, they have dwindled considerably. The

eee ee ee,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 109

4 -—-*-#-o—

Canadian farm of to-day is but a small fraction of the
ample acres of former times.

As each son wished to have the land which fell to
him border on both the road and the river, the original
farms have been divided lengthwise. So the present
Canadian farm is a very narrow strip of land, consisting
of marsh, meadow, pasture, and forest land, with the
river and the road at opposite ends.

In the early days of the colony the river was the
chief means of communication between the straggling

rtile, and
itside the

are the
and they
istoms of
settlements. For boats in summer, and for sleighs or
skates in winter, the St. Lawrence formed at every
season an easy highway from place to place. Even now,
in this nineteenth century, the ice on the river is the
best of roads in winter.

The houses are situated near the road, several hun-
dred feet apart. In shape and general appearance, the
Canadian farmhouse resembles the houses in the city of
Quebec. It has low walls of stone or wood, and high,
steep roofs projecting over the walls in gentle, upward
curves. There are dormer windows in the roofs, and a
huge chimney at each end of the house. Sometimes
there is a winding staircase outside the house, which.
more than anything else, gives a foreign look to the
building.

rare near
try, have
farming.
eceive no
heir slow
did two

he single
n. Eng-
- through
ds, songs,
easant of
f France

ontinuous The house is rarely without a broad piazza, which is

. . qj
southern shaded by vines, and forms a delightfully cool place,
70 to ten where the farmer can rest after his day’s work. The

only disadvantage to this vine-covered piazza is that it
darkens the rooms within. Heavy shutters hang at the
windows, and are always closed at night. This makes

nee very
» land for
bly. The

110 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—e-8-0

traveling at night very difficult, for there are no guid-
ing rays of light thrown from the cottages upon the
dark road.

The rooms are very low. The rough board floors are
uncarpeted, except in the parlor. There a carpet of
colored rags gives a picturesque look to the homely
interior.

The parlor is furnished with two large beds curtained
with blue and white checked linen. A few chairs and
a bureau stand against the wall, which is adorned with
brightly colored pictures of the Pope and the Holy
Family. A bottle of holy water, with a sprig of spruce,
hangs against the wall. The farmer’s wife sprinkles the
sheets with holy water before the family go to bed.

The living room is also used for a bedroom, for one
shadowy corner of the room is filled by the tall, cur-
tained French bed. A wooden bench for a sofa,-rush-
bottomed chairs, and a plain pine table complete the
*,. ishing of the living room. <A black cross on the
wall is its only ornament. A highly polished cooking
stove, situated in a partition between the parlor and
the living room, heats them both.

In most cases the barns are low buildings with over-
hanging, thatched eaves. In these barns are stored all
the produce of the farm, and the cattle and horses are
housed here during the winter. The French Canadians
are very proud of their horses and take great care of
them; but they pay very little attention to their cattle,
which are often so miserably housed and so poorly fed
during the winter that many of them die.

The French Canadian farmer is a short, sturdy, mus-

nei tases mada

no guid-
pon the

loors are
arpet of
homely

urtained
airs and
ied with
ie Holy
f spruce,
ikles the
ed.

for one
all, cur-
fa, -rush-
lete the
on the
cooking
‘lor and

ith over-
cored all
yrses are
inadians
care of
r cattle,
orly fed

ly, mus-

il
‘
:
{

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 111

0-0

cular fellow. He is as tough as iron, and can stand
any amount of exposure to rain and frost, heat and cold.
The expression of his face is dull, but good-natured.
The farmer's wife is also short and plain, and appears
dull. The young girls are neither pretty nor bright,
but they are healthy, quiet, and contented. The chi.-
dren alone are pretty. They are like little cherubs,
with their beautiful dark brown eyes and their plump,
rosy cheeks.

The families of the French Canadians are large.
Generally the dear, old, wrinkled, toothless grandfather
and grandinother live with their son and his wife and
ten children. Fourteen people are stowed away in the
three rooms of the farmhouse.

The farmer is dressed in blue or gray homespun, with
a sash around his waisi. He wears moccasins of cow-
hide on his feet, and, until very recently, his head was
covered by the pointed, tasseled cap that the toboggan-
ers have adopted as part of their club dress.

The farmer’s wife also wears homespnn. Her outside
garment is a long, old-fashioned cloak, which reaches
down to her feet. When she works in the field or goes
to market, she wears a wide-brimmed hat of coarse,
braided straw, and a pair of wooden shoes. The shoes
are exactly like those worn by the Normandy peasants
of the present day.

The spring’s work ‘of the Canadian farmer begins in
May. From the tenth to the fifteenth of the month all
hands on the farm are busily engaged in ploughing and
harrowing the soil.

The plough is a very ancient-looking object. It con-

= eee oe een

112 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE

cee.

sists of a heavy beam with one end supported ona pair
of wheels, and is Crawn by a yoke of oxen, The oxen
creep over the ground so slowly that often a horse is
hitched before them to give them greater speed. To an
observer it appears as if the oxen drew the plough, and
the horse the oxen,
~ After the land is ploughed it is still more broken up
by the harrow, which is often nothing but a great
spruce bough that is dragged over the ground by oxen.

Then comes the planting. But before any seeds can
be laid in’ the ground they must be blessed by the
village priest. On St. Mark's day the farmers. bring
awndfuls of grain to church, The grain is poured into
the font and sprinkled with holy water and blessed. As
each peasant leaves the church, he takes a handful of
the seed from the font and reverently mixes it with the
grain at home. He believes that his harvest will be the
larger and richer for this early blessing of the grain.

The chief event in July is the haying. This takes
place in the middle or last part of the month. The
whole family work in the field, the women and children
toiling side by side with the men. Mowing machines
and horserakes are unknown north of the St. Lawrence.
All the hard, laborious work must be done by the brown
hands of the peasants. The grass is cut with the scythe.
The women spread the mown grass out to dry, and turn
it, when partly dried, from one side to the other. The
hay is at length piled upon the heavy, ponderous, wooden
carts and wheeled away into the barns.

In harvest time the women and children are again in

the fields. The women take their share in the reaping,

Cte I i

ma pair
‘

he oxen
horse is
. Toun
lvh, and

oken up
aw great
y oxen.
Peds can
by the
's) bring
red into
sed. As
ndful of
With the
| be the
‘ain,

is takes
h. The
children
rchines
Wrence,
e brown
seythe.
nd turn
r. The

wooden

gain in

reaping,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 118

ok ee

and with their short, blue, homespun skirts and broad
shade hats, they are picturesque sights as they wield the
sickles. Some kneel to their work ; others crouch or
bend low, Aided by the children, they spread the grain
over the ground to dry, turn it, and finally bind it
into sheaves. They are so careful and economical that
not a head of grain is left upon the ground at the close
of the harvesting.

In some regions of Canada this busiest of seasons is
closed by a merrymaking called the * Festival of the
Big Sheaf.” On the last load of grain is laid one sheaf
of unusual size, known as the Big Sheaf. This is an
emblem of abundance. The youths and maidens, deco-
rated with heads of grain, walk on each side of the cart,
singing national airs.

When they arrive at the owner’s house, the eldest
son, followed by the rest of the merrymakers, enters
the chief room, where the farmer himself sits in his
large armchair. In one hand the son carries a sheaf
decorated with ribbons; in the other, a decanter and a
glass. He advances to his father, congratulates him on
his good harvest, wishes him as successful a one each
year, and offers him a glass of brandy. The rest of the
company are then served with brandy, after which they
pass into an adjoining room, where a bountiful supper of
mutton, milk, and pancakes with maple syrup, is served.

The old-fashioned flail is generally used for thrashing.
Some farmers, with a little tolerance for modern im-
provements, use a thrashing machine, driven either by a
rough water mill or by a patient little pony. The pony
toils away while his master sits idly by on the fence.

114 THE WORLD ANO ITS PEOPLE.

tind

The winnowing of the grain, by which the kernels
are separated from the chaff, is done with a large fan,
on which the grain is tossed up and down until the
chaff, which is the light husk covering the kernel, is
blown away. One twenty-sixth of the pure grain is
given to the priest. This is the way the peasants pay
their church dues.

The grain is next ground into flour. When bread is
being made from the flour, the farmer’s wife prays that
the yeast may rise, and, last of atl, upon the loaf she
marks a cross. Thus the Canadian peasants are contin-
ually reminded, in the midst of their toil for food, that
after all it is God who gives them their daily bread.

In the winter time many of the farmers join the lum-
bermen in their work. Lumbering is paid for in ready
money, Which is very welcome to the farmer. Winter
is the slack season on the farm; and, as the yoke of
oxen or span of horses he may take with him to the
lumbering camp is well paid for, three months in the
woods are always profitable.

It is said that, hard as a farmer is obliged to work in
the United States, his wife always works harder. And
this is equally true in Canada. The women toil from
four o'clock in the morning till eight at night.

The care of their houses gives them very little
trouble. The houses are so small and simply furnished
that sweeping and dusting are very easy matters. The
broom is a bunch of cedar boughs, and the scrubbing
brush a bunch of spruce. ‘The meals, too, are simply
prepared, and very few dishes are used.

The women, when they are not in the fields haying

Le Se

‘

‘eieaint

e kernels
arge fan,
until the
kernel, is
grain is
ants pay

bread is
rays that
loaf she
re contin-
food, that
read,
| the lum-
in ready

Winter
2 yoke of
im to the
hs in the

» work in
ler. And

toil from

ery little
furnished
ers. The
scrubbing
we simply

ds haying

a Se ae

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 115

or harvesting, are occupied in spinning wool, weaving
cloth, and making clothes for their large families, They
knit stockings, make the homespun suits worn by the
men and women, cobble rough but serviceable shoes
from hides, and braid hats of the straw which they
themselves have chosen and prepared. All the artieles
that are not needed by the family they carry to market.

The garret is the workroom of the farmer's wife.
Every material and tool that she needs in performing
her difficult tasks of tailor, shoemaker, and hatter is
found here. Skeins of yarn, sides of leather, and bun-
dles of straw lie about in dusky corners. Both linen
and woollen sheets are piled away in a few old chests.
Some of the sheets are fully one hundred years old.
Two or three spinning wheels and a loom complete the
furnishings. ‘The room is lighted by one small window
:n the roof; and with the rich brown shadows lurking
in the corners and playing upon its quaint furnishings,
it is a charming place.

Let us watch a French Canadian family at supper.
Twelve persons gather about a table small enough for
four. A square of oil cloth serves for a tablecloth, and
in the centre of the table stands a tin pan filled with
pea soup and small pieces of bread. Each member of
the family sits sideways at the table, with one arm and
shoulder free to move above it. Spoons are distributed,
and then the meal begins.

Each one fills his spoon from the central dish, draws
it across the edge of the pan, and carries it to his mouth.
It is a curious sight to see the advance and retreat of
those dozen arms around the pan. After the soup has

a PPA Ee ee AES

paereser eign etna se ca

Reema ee ear agen
nea hae etn teenth ene

Ceoriiaiaabgiedlnepneatt Wear me ES

Se rt emer e

116 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

been finished, a pan of bread and milk is brought to the
table. The spoons are wiped by the mother upon a
towel laid across her knees. ‘hey are then distributed
again, and the meal continues. If a guest is present, a
separate dish is given to him.

After supper the women gather about a tiny lamp
and sew or knit. The men retire to chairs along the
side of the room, where they smoke and discuss harvest
prospects, village gossip, or politics. Just before retir-
ing for the night, the family kneel about the room,
facing the large cross on the wall. The mother repeats
the prayers in a rapid, chanting tone, and the others
answer as rapidly. Afterward each tells his beads
silently and then goes to bed.

It is wonderful, in so small a house, to see the ease
with which beds are summoned from hitherto unex-
pected retreats. Trundle-beds are drawn out from be-
neath large beds; the cover of a chest is thrown back,
and bedding is spread upon it; a bench opens, and
another bed stands revealed. In ease and comf'' the
family of twelve dispose themselves about the two
rooms and enjoy dreamless sleep, until the slow gray
dawning of light in the eastern horizon arouses them
at four in the morning to another day of contented toil.

Their food is very simple and has little variety. Pork,
pease, beans, maple syrup, and milk form the chief arti-
cles of diet. Occasionally the Canadian peasant will
catch fish in the river, or shoot wild fowl. The garden
may yield a few vegetables, or the field some berries ;
but these luxuries are rarely enjoyed by the family.
They are carried, instead, to the nearest city and sold.

|
|

ought to the
other upon a
en distributed
t is present, a

; a tiny lamp
uirs along the
liscuss harvest
t before retir-
out the room,
nother repeats
nd the others

alls his beads

o see the ease
hitherto unex-
1 out from be-
. thrown back,
ch opens, and
id comfot the
vbout the two
the slow gray
. arouses them
contented toil.
variety. Pork,
1 the chief arti-
n peasant will
1. The garden
1 some berries ;
by the family.
city and sold.

|
|

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 117

On Sunday morning the roads leading to the village
chureh are alive with all kinds of vehicles. There is
the old-fashioned hayrack, drawn by one lean _ horse,
with chairs set in it for passengers; there is the familiar
ealéche; and last, and by no means least, the buck-
board. This vehicle consists of a long, elastic plank,
supported by a pair of wheels at each end, and is well
adapted to carrying a heavy load over the rough hills
of Quebec.

It is considered impolite for carriages to pass on the
road, and each farmer drives at a rapid pace in order
not to block the way for his neighbors, Thus, uncon-
sciously quickening their pace, the result, as they draw
near the church, is a run. In contrast to the staid,
sleepy progress to church of the Yankee farmers, the
French Canadians appear to be running a steeple chase.
Their horses race madly up and down the hills, furi-
ously jolting the people in the carriages behind.

When the farmer reaches the church door, he becomes
his usual quiet self again. The women immediately
enter the church to pray before the service begins, but
the men stand in groups about the door. This is the
time when most of the village news is exchanged, and
business arrangements made.

At length the pleasant chat is interrupted by the con-
stable, a pompous officer in a red scarf, who comes out
upon the church steps and addresses the crowd. ‘Come
in,” he says, “ the mass begins.” The men obey at once,
for the constable could arrest any one who was absent
from mass.

The church is a substantial structure, and within is

118 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

plainly finished in pine. In some cases the musical in-
strument is a hand organ, and the same tunes succeed
one another in regular order.

The scene after church is livelier than the one before
church. ‘The town-crier, « man of huge lungs and
ready tongue, collects a crowd about him, and proceeds
to make the weekly announcements. First come the
new county or village laws, the road master’s notices,
and the sheriff’s sales; then follow more private an-
nouncements. Lost articles, places of auctions, and the
opening of new stores are cried.

Sometimes a pig or cow is sold for some one who
wishes to give money to the church. On rare occasions,
the crier closes his speech by saying that the parish has
an insurance policy to pay to Monsieur So-and-so.

The men of the parish insure themselves against fire,
by each one agreeing to provide a few logs and an after-
noon’s labor to any one who loses his house by fire.
They obtain the priest’s permission to work Sunday
afternoon, and by nightfall, are generally able to raise
a rude log house and barn in the place of the charred
remains of the former home.

The French Canadian peasants are one of the most
economical classes of people in the world. The farmer
and his wife and children generally do all the work
themselves, although help can be hired very cheaply
indeed. The wages of a man are from eighty to one
hundred dollars a year, — for a woman just one-fourth
as much.

Most of the necessities of life are obtained by barter.
A farmer who has more maple sugar than he needs,

usical in-
3 succeed

ne before
ings and
proceeds
come the
s notices,
rivate an-
3, and the

one who
occasions,
yarish has
“$0.

‘ainst fire,
| an: after-
e by fire.
< Sunday
2 to raise
e charred

the most
he farmer
the work
y cheaply
ty to one
mne-fourth

by barter.
he needs,

:
|

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 119

_—--oo-

exchanges a part of it for a leg of his neighbor’s mutton
or a peck of his potatoes. Traffic in which goods them-
selves are exchanged is called barter.

A farmer in Canada can bring up a large family of
children with an annual expense of but one hundred
dollars. If he is able to lay by a yearly profit of one
hundred dollars, he is considered to be very prosperous.
One peasant woman raised a family of sixteen chil-
dren with cnly one paper of pins anda catechism. ilow
careful they were of that paper of pins! The scanty
rows were eked out with thorns, and with pins left by
visitors. After the sixteen had arrived at years of dis-
cretion, the catechism was found clean enough to be sold.

The wedding trousseau of a grandmother, consisting
of a pair of cotton stockings, a pair of “store shoes,”
and a calico frock, often figures in the wedding outfit
of a granddaughter. The original garments have been
most carefully cherished through the fifty years between
the two weddings.

The days of the French Canadians are spent in toiling
for the bare necessities of food and clothing. They
have no interesting books, no beautiful pictures, nothing
rich or lovely among their surroundings. They are not
interested in the people of other countries, in the events
of the day, or in any of the great ideas of this century.

They think merely of the objects that they use in
daily life, —- the plough, the spade, the spinning wheel.
And so their lives must be narrow and poor. Still
they are a worthy people. They are kindly and con-
tented, and perform their humdrum tasks with much
patient faithfulness.

tt er a Re NEARER SH RRR NREURMRIRENIEE

120 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—---o—

CHAPTER X.
THE LUMBERMAN’S LIFE.

We have read of the life of the Canadian fisherman,
of his toilsome days, and the many dangers of the deep
by which his life is threatened; now let us look at
the life of the Canadian lumberman. — His life, like the
fisherman's, is filled with weary, toilsome days, scanty
joys, and dangers nearly as perilous as those of the sea.

The Ottawa River which, as you remember, is a
northern tributary of the St. Lawrence, rises among
forests. These forests of pine, fir, and other trees,
stretch away westward for a thousand miles. They
constitute the great forest region of Canada, which
extends from the foamy waters of the upper Ottaiwa to
clear Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba.

These forests are very old. A mere glance at the
height and size of the trees makes it plain that for
hundreds and hundreds of years they have continued
their silent, steady growth.

It is only within the last forty years that this region
has been explored. For generations the forest life was
undisturbed. The trees leafed out in the spring and
blossomed in the summer. In the autumn there were
miles and miles of unseen beauty in the red leaves of
the oak, the rich yellow of the maple, and the delicate
lemon of the birch; in the winter the heavy snow
weighed down the plumy branches of the many ever-
green trees, — the pine, hemlock, spruce, and fir.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 121

Mountain streams roared past the roots of the giant
pines on their banks. Lakes mirrored the slender
birches in their unruffled waters. Pines rising tier
above tier marshalled their ranks about mountains
which no man’s foot had ever crossed. The woodland
silence was only occasionally broken by the stealthy
tread of the black bear and the scream of the eagle.

But to-day these woods are the scene of busy, active
life, and are the means by which large sums of gold are
brought into the coffers of the nation. The forests in
the Northeast and Northwest Territories are controlled
by the Dominion government; those in the provinces
by the provincial governments.

The forests are divided into what are called timber
limits. Each of these is ten miles square. The owners
of sawmills and speculators hire timber limits for the
season. They pay the government, whether general or
provincial, a certain sum of money, and agree, in addi-
tion, to pay duty on every log that is cut.

After the timber limit is secured, a band of five or six
men are sent to ascertain the amount and value of the
timber of the limit, to choose the place for the camp,
and to explore the whole limit, particularly noting the
position and availability of the lakes and streams.
Such a task is called prospecting.

The explorers pass through the timber limit, blazing
the trees to mark out the future roads. They indicate
the places for the future camps and rollways, and, in
short, lay out the plan for the winter campaign. Their
work is exceedingly important, and they are well paid
for their services. They carry guns, and the rough

isherman,
the deep
; look at
, like the
ys, scanty
f the sea.
ber, is a
43 among
ler trees,
s. They
la, which
)ttawa to

ce at the
that for
continued

nis region
t life was
wring and
here were
leaves of
> delicate
wy snow
any ever-
1 fir.

122 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—-so-—

picnic life with its opportunitics for hunting is thor-
oughly enjoyed.

The difficult part of their enterprise is to find spots
whence an extensive ‘observation may be obtained.
Whenever it is possible, one of the party climbs a tall
pine on a hillside and surveys the country.

In the fall the lumbermen, with their horses, oxen,
sleighs, wagons, and provisions, set out for the timber
limit. The depots and various stations on the route
are thoroughly alive.

Everywhere is seen the sun-browned young lumber-
man, tall and graceful as an Indian, and gay and talka-
tive as a Frenchman. He has usually several bright
touches to his costume, and is very fond of red. Now
he wears a red scarf, now a red vest, and now boots with
red tops, which with a white kerchief tied about his
sunburned throat, gives him a very gallant appearance.

The first thing to be done after reaching the timber
limit is to erect the shanty, or camp, for the men and
the stable for the horses. The shanty is a large, oblong
building with walls and low-pitched roof made of logs.
In one side a doorway is cut, and a door of heavy tim-
ber is hung in place. All crevices are carefully stuffed
with moss or hay, to make the shanty tight against the
cold winds of winter.

The fioor is of boards. Near the centre of the shanty
are four posts which support the roof. On the ground
between these posts, the great camp fire is built. There
is no chimney, but the smoke passes out through a large,
square opening cut in the roof directly over the fire-
place, which is compactly built of earth and stones.

ris thor-

ind spots
obtained.
nbs a tall

ses, oxen,
ie timber
the route

¢ lumber-
ind talka-
al bright
“ul. Now
yoots with
about his
pearance.

he timber
men and
re, oblong
le of logs.
leavy tim-
lly stuffed
eainst the

she shanty
ie ground
it. There
oh a large,
r the fire-
tones.

AED

compe ear
Sebi rein RE asi SF

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 123

—_—e-e-o—

The furniture is of the scantiest. On three sides of
the room the bunks are arranged in rows, one above the
other; on the fourth side is the cook’s table. ‘Two
strong wooden cranes from which are suspended the
pots and kettles of the camp, stand at two corners of
the fireplace.

Next a rollway is prepared. Some hillside close by
a river or lake is selected. Its surface is thoroughly
examined, and all obstacles or obstructions which might
prevent any object from rolling easily down the slope
are removed. Here the logs are to be stored until the
time of the spring freshet, when the river carries them
down to the sawmill.

When these preliminaries are settled, the actual work
begins. Before dawn the men, anywhere in number
from twenty to eighty, are called by the foreman. They
feed the cattle, and, after a warm breakfast, harness the
horses and yoke the oxen, and set off for the scene of
the day’s labor.

Here stands a giant pine. Two men attack it with
their axes on opposite sides, and the great chips begin
to fly. The accuracy of the men is wonderful. Rarely
does each successive stroke vary a hair’s breadth from
the first. Sharp and clear sounds every death-blow
dealt to the patriarch of the forest.

The trunk is nearly severed; the tree bends and
rocks; the axmen spring aside; and now, with a
mighty crash, carrying with it in its fall quantities of
lesser growth which for years it has sheltered under its
branches, the monarch tree is down. The life of cen-
turies is destroyed in an hour.

124 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—--—

The branches are removed, and then the trunk is cut
into logs by the sawyers. Next it is hauled to the
rollway.

Generally one log is enough for a sled, but sometimes
two or three are chained to it. A very large piece is
drawn by eight or ten horses fastened to a double sled.
Sometimes only one sled is used, and then part of the
log is dragged on the snow.

Often the road to the landing is far from level. In
this case what is called a gallery road is constructed.
Logs are driven firmly into the hillside, and are covered
solidly with earth and stones. Thus an artificial road
is made over which the teamster drives, in easy curves,
securely down the slope, although the steep hill rises
upon one side, and the precipice yawns on the other.

When the road is exceedingly abrupt in its descent,
another method is resorted to. A strong rope is fastened
to the sled, and also to a sturdy tree on the summit of
the hill. As the team descends the hillside, the rope is
let out from above until horses, log, and driver reach
the bottom in safety.

When the logs are unloaded at the rollway, they
receive two marks,— one, the mark of the owner, the
other, the mark of their value.

The logs which are to become square timber ge
through a further process in the woods. After the saw-
yers have finished their task, the logs are handed over
to the hewers, who, with their broadaxes, square the
huge sticks. Beams for building purposes are made in
this way. The square timber is not carried to the roll-
way.

nk is eut
“lL to the

ometimes
» piece is
uble sled.
ut of the

evel. In
nstructed.
e covered
icial road
sy curves,
hill rises
other.

; clescent,
s fastened
ummit of
he rope is
ver reach

vay, they
wner, the

imber ge
r the saw-
ided over
juare the
2 made in
» the roll-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 125

8-8

The work of the day is broken by the noon meal,
which is carried to the spot where the men are at work.
A large fire is built, over which the tea is made. The
lumbermen care for neither sugar nor milk with tea.
All that they desire is that this, their sole beverage,
should be very strong and hot.

After the meal a little time is allowed for smoking,
and then the men resume their work with renewed
energy. Their guns are near at hand, and often a stray
deer is brought down to give variety to their monoto-
nous bill of fare.

At sundown the men return to the shanty. That
rough hut is a welcome sight to the weary laborers.
They quicken their steps on coming in sight of its
rugged walls. The snow is piled deep about the
shanty, and the wind howls around its corners. Dark
mountain pines stand grimly in the background, but the
house itself looks light and warm, while a column of
smoke rises from the roof. Plainly a hot supper is
being prepared.

After a hasty wash the men enter the hut to behold a
sight which gladdens every hungry heart. A huge
boiler filled with tea, and a large pan of fried fat pork
are placed close to the fire. On the cook’s table stands
a dish of cold pork, a freshly baked loaf of bread, and a
pile of basins.

Each man helps himself to a basin, which is promptly
filled with tea; and then, seated on a rude bench by
the fire, he forgets cold and hunger in the delightful
present.

After supper, some sharpen their axes, while others

126 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

—--o

tell stories of adventure, sing, or dance. Meanwhile
the moccasins and mittens, hung up to dry by the fire,
cast curious shadows on the walls of the hut.

The outdoor exercise, followed by the hearty supper
and the warmth of the campfire, ce-'ses sleepiness. ‘The
group around the fire breaks up, and, dressed as they
are, the men seek their bunks. Each wraps a blanket
about him and lies down, with head to the wall and feet
to the fire, to lose himself in dreamless sleep on his soft,
elastic bed of pine boughs. Truly “the sleep of the
laboring man is sweet.”

Such is the daily routine, only varied by the visits of
the bush superintendent and of the Catholic priest.
With the coming of spring the teamsters return to their
homes. The logs, the result of their winter's labor, are
henceforth in charge of that class of lumbermen known
as river drivers. :

The ice breaks up, the water of the rivers is free,
and the sprin, freshets begin. In some cases the logs
have been piled upon the frozen river, and, with the
breaking up of the ice, they fall at once into the swift
current, and are carried rapidly downstream. But
oftener they are piled upon a rollway.

When the rollway is erected upon a_ hillside, the
drivers slowly and cautiously impel the logs at the foot
of the rollway toward the river. The upper logs pres-
ently partake of the motion, and soon an avalanche
takes place.

Carefully prepared as the rollway may be, oftentimes
some unforeseen obstruction prevents a great number of
the logs from rolling into the river. A stump or a

t
f

leanw hile
y the fire,

ty supper
ess. The
las they
a blanket
land feet
n his soft,
sp of the

e visits of
ic priest.
n to their
labor, are
n known
's is free,
the logs
with the
the swift
im. But

lside, the
t the foot
logs pres-
avalanche

ftentimes
jaumber of
imp or a

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 127

single log may prevent the desired movement. Then
comes the danger; for one of the river drivers must
undertake the hazardous enterprise of cutting away the
obstacle. When it is removed, the logs rush down,
and the man has a chance for his life only by diving
into the depths of the stream.

After the logs are launched, the drivers must follow
them; for their responsibility is not over until the tim-
ber is delivered at its final destination, the sawmill.
Sometimes they follow the river banks, pushing off with
their long poles the logs which may have stranded on
the banks or in the middle of the stream.

But oftener the men follow in light, flat-bottomed
boats. A number of sinall boats are accompanied, when
practicable, by a large, covered, floating scow, which
serves all the purposes of the shanty.

The greatest danger in this phase of lumbering is from
the logs lodging in the middle of the stream and form-
ing a jam. Under such circumstances, the drivers show
wonderful skill in selecting and removing the log which
has caused the jam, and in avoiding the downward rush
of the logs. They spring like deer from log to log, and
balance themselves as accurately as circus riders.

In shallow streams a system of dams is constructed
with piles driven deep into the bed of the stream, and
with gates arranged so as to regulate the amount of
water passing through. The dam accumulates water
sufficient to float logs down to it, and then, by means of
the gate, or sluice, the logs are suffered to pass, to-
gether with water enough to carry them with a rush
some distance on their course.

128 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-e-e—

If the stream is very quick and dangerous, the logs
are launched upon it and carried over the rapids, A
few are broken into fragments ; others are stranded, and
have to be left until some stronger spring freshet may
bear them down; but most of them pass all the dangers
without injury, and float down to the sawmill,

This is a large wooden structure close to the river.
The logs are collected above the mill. When the mill
is working, a car, running up and down a plane inclined
to the edge of the stream, carries the logs two by two
into the mill. They are placed under rows of saws,
which cut quickly through them from end to end.

If the mill is run by steam, the sawdust is used to
feed the furnaces in the engine room. ‘Thus every frag-
ment of the log is of use.

The square timber is too valuable to be carried in
this rough way to its final destination, the city of
Quebee. Wherever there are cataracts on the rivers
down which the square timbers are to be brought,
slides, leading from the river above to the waters below,
have been constructed. At the side of the fall is an
artificial channel with smooth timber walls and a floor
of wood and stone, into which the water is admitted by
a gate, and down which the square timber is passva,
either in single pieces or in cribs.

The crib is a kind of raft, twenty-four feet wide, with
its length varying with the length of the timber used in
its construction. Its base consists of twenty pieces
bound together by shorter pieces called transverses.
Above these are secured four broad pieces of timber,
forming the floor of the improvised raft. A frame

the logs
pids, A
ded, and
het may
dangers

he river.
the mill
inclined
o by two
of saws,
nd.

; used to
very frag-

arried in
» city of
he rivers
brought,
rs below,
wl is an
ida floor
nitted by
S pissud,

ride, with
r used in
ty pieces
WISVerses.
f timber,
A. trame

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 129

house is built upon the crib for the raftsmen, The crib
is propelled by long oars and by sail,

Oftentimes travelers are taken down a slide by the
raftsmen, ‘The sensation is a new one, and very excit-
ing. It is a kind of water tobogganing.

The guests are bidden to seat themselves on the high-
est bit of timber in the rear, and to hold toa pole driven
into the lowest timbers of the raft. The ladies — for
ladies enjoy making this descent — draw their dresses
closely around them. The sluice gates are opened; and
before them appears a narrow channel a quarter of a
mile in length, down which a shallow stream is sweep-
ing. Here and there the boarded bed of the channel
has a fall, or drop, of from tive to eight feet.

The crib is carefully guided through the gateway, but
hesitates on the brink. Soon the waters rise around it;
it floats; and then, with a sudden rush, plunges down
the incline. As the crib goes over the drops, jets of
water spurt up between the timbers. And now the
foaming, tossing water just ahead shows that the crib
will soon be on the rough river again. There is one
more drop; and then the moving crib is neatly caught
by a floating raft of timber, which prevents the quick
impetus it has acquired from sending it to the bottom
of the stream.

Every one is well splashed, but he does not care. The
excitement of the swift rush fully compensates for wet

and clinging clothes,

The single cribs proceed to the “banding ground.”
There they are fastened, or banded together, into
rafts by pieces of twisted sapling. One raft contains

1380 THE WORLD AND !TS PEOPLE.

—fo—

from ninety to one hundred cribs. The method by
which they are fastened allows each crib some freedom
of motion up and down, and so lessens the strain on the
“ft as a whole.

When a raft arrives at a rapid or a waterfall, it is sep-
arated into cribs. These pass down the slide in turn,
and are made into a raft again below.

The raft looks like a floating village. On nearly
every crib is a tiny hut in which the raftsman lives, and
sometimes his wife and children. Such a raft is a very
picturesque sight, with its many fires blazing brightly,
its many sails swelling in the breeze, and its oars plied
by muscular, brown-armed raftsmen.

On arriving at Quebec, the raft is broken up and its
timber dispersed among the acres of timber floating in
the coves near the harbor.

From these mighty stores of lumber many of the out-
going ships are filled. Men dart about over the loose
timbers, selecting the cargo with their pike poles. The
beams are raised by chains and passed into the great
receiving ports in the bows of the ships.

As a vessel becomes more heavily laden, the lowest
porthole, through which the loading has been carried
on, sinks to the water's edge. This porthole is then
closed, and the loading continues through one above.

Nearly one-half of the timber exported goes to Great
Britain. The United States also imports large stores.
The products of the forest exports during the last ten
years have averaged twenty million dollars a year.

Her forests form part of the present capital of Canada,

and, properly cared for, would be a permaners source of

he method by
some freedom
1e strain on the

terfall, it is sep-
» slide in turn,

ro. On nearly
sman lives, and
a raft is a very
lazing brightly,
1 its oars plied

ken up and its
mber floating in

nany of the out-
t over the loose
vike poles. The
1 into the great
aden, the lowest
1as been carried
porthole is then
oh one above.
ed goes to Great
rts large stores.
ring the last ten
lars a year.
apital of Canada,
maners source of

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 131

+ ee

wealth; but of late years they have been so recklessly
consumed that there is danger of the supply becoming
exhausted. When houses, bridges, and fences are built
of wood, when country roads are laid over logs of wood,
and when cities are paved with wood, it seems as if the
waste of wood was wrong.

The forests are also being thinned by fires. Picnic
parties neglect to extinguish the fires they build, and
farmers, while clearing land, often start fires which get
beyond their control and destroy large tracts of forest
land.

The lumberman is the great pioneer of civilization.
His shanty is the centre from which may grow a town
or city spreading over a large area. Farmers, finding a
market for their produce in the lumbering camp, clear
farms uear by. Blacksmiths and wheelwrights follow
the farmer; and then, if a sawmill is established on the
nearest stream, the settlement of the place is secured.

In this way Canada owes more than she can estimate
to the simple, hard-working lumberman living his toil-
some yet happy life.

CHAPTER XI.
THE CANADIAN PRAIRIE.

Canada is rich in forests, rich in mines, but richest of
all in her prairie land. The Canadian Pacific Railroad,
which binds with its steel links the Great Lakes to the
Pacific coast, passes through a thousand miles of forests
and a thousand miles of prairie. We have gone together

snot SSES

132 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

into the forests; have gazed at the handsome pines aud
oaks; and have seen the strong lumbermen cutting, hew-
ing, and hauling logs. Now let us visit the prairics, and
see what kind of life is fouid upon them.

Perhaps you may remember your first sight of the
sea, when you stood silent with parted lips and with
eyes fixed intently on the blue wonder of the tossing
waves. You have long treasured the feeling of awe
and delight which the scene called into your mind.
The first sight of the prairie is just as wonderful as the
first view of the ocean. There is the same wide outlook,
the same sweeping breeze, and the same rounded billows.
But the billows in the case of the prairie are always
motionless.

The prairie looks like a frozen sea. Grassy hillocks,
precisely like the green waves of the ocean, roll away in
long, wavy lines a thousand miles westward to the
Rocky Mountains and seven hundred miles northward
to the Peace River. All of this land, except the tiny
square of Manitoba, is the Northwest Territory of the
Dominion of Canada.

One cannot say in which season the prairies are most
beautiful. After the first mild days have come in spring,
the prairie anemone, a small flower of a delicate blue, is
found half-hidden by the withered and whitened leaves
of the previous year. Sometimes the anemone is white,
and then again it is purple; but the flower, like the
Plymouth mayflower, blossoms before the leaves unfold,
and is the first sign of spring.

In the month of June the prairies are smothered with
wild roses. The horse of the traveler crushes them

|
|
i

pines and
tting, hew-
‘airics, and

zht of the
and with
he tossing
ng of awe
four mind.
ful as the
de outlook,
led billows.
are always

sy hillocks,
oll away in
wd to the
northward
pt the tiny
tory of the

es are most
e in spring,
ate blue, is
ened leaves
ne is white,
r, like the
ives unfold,

thered with
ushes them

:
}
|

-———

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 133

beneath his feet by day, and at night the traveler's
blanket is spread above their tender pink and white
blossoms.

In early summer the grass is a bright green, but the
autumn frosts turn the sedges and grasses to many
colors, — to pale lemon yellow, blue, dark red, saffron,
and brown. These, with purple asters and golden core-
opsis, make the prairies a glory of splendid color in
the fall. As the frosts grow keener, the grasses are
bleached to a yellow so pale as to seem almost white.

Then, just as the first snow flurry of the year might
be expected, the sun appears to rise higher in the sky ;
a yellow haze settles over the horizon; and it seems as
if summer had returned, the days are so warm and beau-
tiful. It has returned indeed, for this is the Indian
summer.

After six weeks, the soft yellow smoke fades away,
and then a kind of melancholy waiting seems to settle
over the pale prairie. It is waiting for the blizzard
from the northwest.

Terrible and destructive as the blizzards, or snow
squalls, are in the cities, they are more to be dreaded
on the prairie. The farmer is working in some field
remote from his house. He is so much interested in
his work that he does not notice the sky, which a few
hours ago was fair. But great clouds have rolled up-
ward from the west, and suddenly the blizzard is upon
him.

He flies for protection to the nearest bluff or grove.
The keen wind drives the snowflakes squarely into
his face. They blind his eyes and cut his cheeks. At

———A

134 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

——o—

length he gains the shelter of the wood, and gives oue
backward glance over his shoulder. Houses, barns,
fences, fields are blotted, from his sight. Prairie and
sky are lost, and all that is left is a white sheet of
whistling, driving snow.

The cold is intense; but a roaring fire of branches
is soon built, and the farmer seats himself near by to
wait for the storm to pass. The usual duration of a
blizzard is twelve honrs, but one sometimes lasts for
days. In that case our farmer is lost. If hunger drives
him to attempt to reach his home, he will probably lose
his way and perish with cold on the open prairie.

In the cities the blocks of houses afford some protec-
tion. But in the streets open to the wind, nothing is
seen but a wild, white whirl in which shingles, boards,
and bricks fly about, and through which men fight their
way. The lighted windows of the stores and houses
cause the dark fury of the tempest to appear all the
stronger and more terrible.

Winnipeg, the capital of Manitoba, is a purely west-
ern town. A few years ago a lot in the centre of
Winnipeg could be bought for a trifle, but now it
would cost more than a similar lot in Toronto. People
from all parts of the world are thronging into this new
city. Ask a man the way to a street, and very likely he
will say that he has only arrived in the city that day.

Winnipeg presents strong contrasts of magnificence
and poverty. Fine stone blocks stand opposite wretched
shanties ; spirited horses and elegant ca riages dash by
lumbering ox carts; graduates from the eastern univer-
sities pass Icelanders and Indians on the streets.

er oy ud’

yes one

barns,
rie and
heet of

ranches
r by to
on of a
asts for
r drives
bly lose

,
je

» protec-
thing is
boards,
rht their
| houses
all the

sly west-
entre of
now it
People
this new
likely he
ut day.
nificence
wretched
s dash by

n univer-

ieee

TUT WON

Tye

THE CITY HALL, WINNIPEG.

136 THE. WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Winnipeg is a good starting point for expeditions to
the north and to the west. By means of boat or canoe
one can reach Hudson Bay by following the valley of
the Nelson. The two great rivers flowing into Hudson
Bay from the west are the Churchill and the Nelson.

The Churchill is a beautiful river, larger than the
Rhine. Its water, which is clearer than the St. Law-
rence, flows between low, rolling banks. The Churchill,
although a wide river, is swift and deep, and can be
navigated for some distance from its mouth.

The upper course of the Nelson, like the upper course
of the Churchill, consists of a chain of small lakes, con-
nected by short streams. The Nelson, on account of
falls, is not navigable as far as the Churchill, and the
harbor at its mouth is not so good. Its valley is as
large as that of the St. Lawrence, and it carries four
times as much water to Hudson Bay as the Ottawa
pours into the St. Lawrence. So you see that here in
the backwoods of Canada is one of the great rivers of
the world.

York Factory, at the mouth of the Churchill, is a
depot for collecting and shipping furs. Once a yeara
ship from England brings the people their stores, and
returns with a cargo of furs. The ship is eagerly
watched for; and when, at last, her sails appear upon
the cold gray waters of Hudson Bay, tears rise in the
eyes of English and Scotch emigrants at thoughts of
home. As the ship sails into the harbor, the battery of
Fort York salutes the Union Jack, and just before the
vessel drops her anchor, she answers the fort.

Then there are busy times. Every one owning a boat.

litions to
or canoe
valley of
. Hudson
elson.

than the
St. Law-
‘hurchill,

d can be

er course
ikes, con-
count of
l, and the
lley is as
rries four
e Ottawa
ut here in
t rivers of

chill, is a
» a@ year a
tores, and
is eagerly
pear upon
ise in the
1oughts of
battery of
before the

iing a boat

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 187

o-oo

pushes out to the ship to see the new comers and to help
unload. Indians in their canoes paddle about as eagerly
as their white neighbors. The vessel is rapidiy un-
loaded, and with the next high tide she is off on her
return trip.

Those on the shore watch her till she is out of sight,
and then turn sadly away, realizing that a dreary winter
lies before them. It takes a sailing vessel about one
month to make the voyage between York Factory and
Liverpool.

It may surprise you to learn that this little town of
York Factory is no farther from England than is Mon-
treal. Some day, when the prairies are thickly settled,
and when railroads connect the valleys of the Peace
and the Saskatchewan Rivers with Hudson Bay, York
Factory may become a large and important commercial
port.

There is talk about having a line of steamers running
between the British Isles and Hudson Bay. When that
day comes, this region will draw much trade from Mon-
treal; populous cities will arise at the mouths of the
Churchill and the Hudson Rivers, and Hudson Bay,
ceasing to be the remote, unfamiliar sea that it now is,
will become a busy highway for ships and steamers.
The little child may see all these wonderful changes
before he grows gray-haired.

The life of the Indian trapper is a hard one. Three
Indians will perhaps hunt together. Leaving Fort
York, to which they have just carried a hard-earned
stock of furs, they set out for their hunting ground.

A walk of a hundred and fifty miles lies before them.

138 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—e-f-o—

It is in the dead of winter. Deep snows cover the
ground, and a frost is in the air so keen and cold that
even the hardy warrior draws his blanket closer about
him. ,

Each Indian carries upon his back a bundle contain-
ing dried meat, tea, tobacco, and the blanket in which
he wraps himself at night. They take turns in drawing
a sled, upon which are strapped the camp kettles, traps,
and furs which they have taken. After a walk of fifty
miles, they scoop out, with their snowshoes, a hollow in
the snow, in which they spend the night.

On arriving at the hunting grounds, the first care of
the trapper is to pitch the wigwam. He next turns his
attention to setting the traps.

Each Indian starts in a different direction, blazing his
path through the woods as he goes. He makes a large
circuit, or loop, which takes him several days to eom-
plete, and which ends in the camp. Near this line he sets
his traps; and every few days he goes over the circuit
to see that the traps are set and in order, and to collect
the bodies of the animals caught.

If a hunting ground proves to be unprofitable, they
pack up their goods and patiently trudge one hundred
or two hundred miles further on. The trapper toils
early and late, with very little pay for his labor.

Now let us turn our faces westward from Winnipeg.
Perhaps the best way to cross the prairies is on horse-
back, with tent and provisions packed in a light cart.

The only road is the trail, which stretches like a hard,
black line across the level, green plain. It is delightful
to ride over in fine weather. But let the rain fall for a

yer to
ld that
y about

ontain-
- which
lrawing
, traps,
of fifty
llow in

care of
ins his

‘ing his
a large
[Oo eom-
he sets
circuit
collect

le, they
undred
er toils

nnipeg.
. horse-
cart.

a hard,
lightful
ll for a

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 139

2-0

few moments, and the trail becomes exceedingly muddy
and disagreeable. One is forced to turn aside and seek
a new trail for himself.

How delightful is life on the prairie in summer!
Nowhere else is the sky so high and so blue. Nowhere
else are the clouds so purely white. The breeze that
fans the cheek is fresh, cool, and invigorating. The air
seems newly created, and, in its turn, seems to awaken
us to new life.

Hunger is no word for the intense sensation with
which, after our dash over the prairies, we dismount
at our first resting place for the night. Hot coffee!
Never before was its aroma so fragrant, nor its taste so
grateful.

The full moon rises slowly, and casts a silvery tinge
over the grassy waves of the prairie. The stars shine
out brightly. Rolling yourself in a blanket, you gaze
upward for hours, as cue by one the constellations wheel
slowly toward the western horizon, and vanish out of
sight.

The light of dawn awakens you to another beautiful
day. The rising sun throws a rosy light over the plain,
and is dazzlingly reflected from millions of crystal drops
on the grass.

The prairie at all hours presents an ever changing
scene of beauty. At noon, mirages are often seen. A
mirage is a picture of some object, greatly magnified and
thrown upon the sky. For example, there might be a
willow tree so far away that a traveler could not see it.
The noon light might cause this willow to appear as a
grove of trees to him. In this same way, a clump of

140 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—e-o-o-

trees seems to be a forest, and a few bushes on the banks
of a brook become tall, overshadowing trees.

Sometimes at night, a brilliant coppery red light
glows in the northern ‘horizon, while forked flames
shoot into the sky. It is caused by a prairie fire forty,
sixty, or even eighty miles away. Owing to the careless-
ness of Indians and emigrants, camp fires are often left
smouldering. A light breeze springs up; the fire spreads,
and miles of prairie are left blackened and desolate.

The country through which we are now passing is
being rapidly settled. Dark ploughed fields and thin
columns of rising smoke show that the wilderness is
peopled.

The story told by one settler is that of nearly all.
He and his family started westward in the early spring,
hoping that they might raise their house and harvest
their crops before winter. Finding a fertile tract of
land near a small stream, they decided that here should
be their home.

For the first few weeks they slept upon rubber
blankets spread upon the ground, and led a gypsy life.
Then, with the help of neighbors, the house was built.

It was of poplar logs laid on a foundation of oak logs.
The poplar logs are never laid upon the ground, as they
do not resist dampness as the oak logs do. The chinks
between the logs were filled in with bits of board, and
then the walls were covered with clay which hardened
into a firm, compact coat. The roof was of shingles,
covered with hardened mud. There were but two
rooms within, one in each story, and a ladder led from
one floor to the other.

he banks

od light
| flames
re forty,
careless-
ften left
spreads,
late.

ssing is
und thin
‘mess is

arly all.
y spring,
harvest
tract of
e should

. rubber
ypsy life.
s built.

oak logs.
|, as they
ie chinks
ard, and
hardened
shingles,
but two
led from

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 141

—e oo

Next, the farmer proceeded to plough, working from
peep of dawn till nine in the morning, and then again
from four in the afternoon to sunset. Twenty or thirty
acres of land were thus prepared for planting.

Then rude barns were built; fences were raised ; and
the tender green of the potato plants appeared near the
house. A small crop of oats and bariey was harvested
the first year.

The next spring wheat was sown; a dairy was built;
more cattle were added; better furniture appeared in
the house. In a few years the farmer who came west a
very poor man with oniy a few hundred dollars, is very
comfortably off.

All this western region is wonderfully adapted to the
growing of wheat. The valleys of the Peace and the
Saskatchewan Rivers might be called the granaries of
the world.

The trappers used to tell marvellous stories of the
cold of these districts. They said that the ground re-
mained frozen all summer, that the mereury froze in the
thermometers, and that the axes of wood cutters broke
against the frozen trees. The object of these stories
was to keep the country free from settlers, and so pre-
serve the fur-bearing animals in plenty. Even now,
many find it difficult to believe that the winters here
are no severer than those of Eastern Canada.

Did you ever have a garden of your own? Perhaps
then you have found that it is well not to place the
same kind of plants in the same spot year after year.
Each plant has its own favorite food, which it draws
from the earth. After growing a year or two in the

142 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

same place, it has taken most of its own food from the
soil, and so becomes small and withered. ‘Transplant it,
and immediately it begins to grow and to thrive. This
is because it has found fresh food in the new place.

The farmer has to change his crops in the same way,
planting corn where the year before he had pease, grow-
ing beans in the asparagus bed, and so on, It is quite
aw chemical puzzle to the farmer, how he shall change
his crops to the best advantage.

The prairie soil, having never been cultivated, is so
rich that for sixty years wheat has been raised in’ the
same fields without any dressing or other enrichment of
the land.

Here, too, the wheat reaches its perfection. There
are three grains in the kernel, while farther south in
the wheat fields of Minnesota and Dakota, there are but
two. So thirty bushels of wheat can be harvested from
an acre in Canada, when only twenty can be produced
on an acre in the United States.

Some stalks of wheat have been found in the Peace
valley with five grains to a kernel. This shows that
even more than thirty bushels to the acre can be raised
in this section of the Northwest. The grasshopper, the
farmers’ pest, is unknown near Peace River.

And now, following in a general way the South Sas-
katchewan River, we enter the loneliest region as yet
crossed. For days and days the traveler gallops on,
and still the same desolation and silence is about him.
The horizon appears always the same, and always as
far from him as at first. No living thing can be seen or
heard.

from the
nsplant it,
ive. ‘This
place.
sane way,
“Use, LOW
It is quite
all change

ated, is so
sed in the
ichment of

n. There
r south in
ere are but
ested from
. produced

the Peace
shows that
1 be raised
1opper, the

South Sas-
‘ion as yet
rallops on,
about him.
always as
be seen or

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 143

The spirits of the gayest traveler sink beneath the
awful loneliness of the place. It seems as if one might
go on for ever and ever, with no change in his sur-
roundings.

But at last we draw near the foothills of the Rocky
Mountains, where we are to enjoy hunting the grizzly
bear and the buffalo. The buffaloes used to range the
prairie, but, since the settlers have come flocking in, the
few which remain alive have retreated to the mountains,

The Rocky Mountains are as grand, in their way, as
the Alps. They look like great tents tipped with white,
and, in the sunset light, gleam beautifully with rose
and gold. The Indian called them “The Grate of the
World.” He believed that the “happy hunting ground”
lay just beyond them. The Indian of the plain w ld
have been delighted to follow where we are going now,
and to explore the land which lies beyond the “Gate of
the World,” —the country of British Columbia,

CHAPTER XII.
BEYOND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

The Atlantic coast of Caaada has several provinces,
but the Pacific coast has only one. That is the province
of British Columbia, which includes not only the main-
and but also Vancouver Island.

Over thirty years ago, when the country was unset-
tled and almost unknown, the news spread like wild-

See Se

Seo ees

Da ne a

+
\

{44 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

fire through Canada and the United States that gold
had been found in the bed of the Fraser River. In-
stantly a great tide of immigration swept tov rards Brit-
ish Columbia, and soon,’on every sand bar ot the Fraser,
might be seen crowds of eager men bending over their
rude contrivances for washing nuggets of gold from the
sand of the river bed.

The most beneficial result of the rush for gold was
that the country began to be settled, and opened up for
settlement. Farmers came in the midst of the gold
fever, not to wash out the gold, but to plant the fields.
The miners needed food, and so there was need of the
farmers. Many of the farmers and miners remained
after the mining excitement was over, and so British
‘olumbia came to be settled.

There are five parallel ranges of mountains crossing
British Columbia from north to south. Beginning with
the east, they are the Rocky Mountains, the Selkirk
Range, the Cold Range, the Cascade Mountains, and
the mountains of Vancouver and Queen Charlotte's
Islands. This last range belongs to an ancient moun-
tain system of which a part has sunk below the sea.
It protects the mainland from the chilly ocean winds.

The rain clouds from the Pacific Ocean let some of
their contents fall on Vancouver Island and the Cascade -
Mountains. Then, rising higher in the air because of
their lightness, they float across the great plain, and,
meeting the cold, lofty summits of the Gold and Selkirk
Ranges, all the rain they carry falls upon these moun-
tains. Consequently, here is found the richest and most
luxuriant vegetation.

tes that gold
rr River. In-
towards Brit-
oat the Fraser,
ng over their
gold from the

for gold was
opened up for
t of the gold
ant the fields.
s need of the
iers remained
ind so British

tains crossing
seginning with
s, the Selkirk
fountains, and
en Charlotte’s
ancient moun-
below the sea.
ycean winds.

un let some of

nd the Cascade -

air because of
eat plain, and,
yd and Selkirk
n these moun-
chest and most

Lin: Ca eet

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 145

Great forests of pine, spruce, hemlock, and cedaz cover
the slopes of the mountains. The ground, the rocks,
and the trees, all have a coat of deep green moss, thick
and soft as plush. Garlands of moss hang from the
trees. It is beautiful to look at, but to penetrate
one of these dense forests of the upper Selkirk is an
exceedingly difficult undertaking.

Very litt'e of British Columbia is as fertile as these
mountains, where rain or snow falls nearly every day.
The great plateau between the Cascade Mountains and
the Gofd Range is dry and barren throughout, except
in the valley of the Fraser River. Low, rounded,
brown hills rise in all directions, and the only natural
growths are the coarse bunch grass and the cactus
known as the prickly pear.

Enterprising farmers, by means of canals with which
to draw water from the few streams, have made farms
for themselves, upon which they have been able to raise
fruits and grains. An acre of this land will produce
from forty to seventy bushels of wheat.

The Fraser River, besides being the centre of the
agricultural region, is also the chief means by which
the inland towns communicate with the coast. Twice
a week steamboats ascend the river for two hundred
miles, while canoes can ascend three hundred miles
farther.

The Gulf of Georgia, which separates Vancouver
Island from the mainland, has been called the Mediter-
ranean of America. A vessel could sail for a whole
week through the Gulf, threading the narrow channels
between the many small islands. The iegion is most

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—t-o—

THE DOUGLAS FINE.

solitary. There is ao
sign of human life ;
nothing but lonely
mountain peaks, gla-
ciers, and deep forests.
Far to the north lie
Queen Charlotte’s
Islands, where a little
farming is done. To
the west stretches the
wooded shore of Van-
couver Island.

Only the shores of
this island are known.
The interior has been
but little explored. It
is known, howevef, that
there are many moun-
tains and vast forests
of the Douglas pine in
the centre of the island.

Victoria, the capital
of British Columbia, is
situated on the south-
ern end of Vancouver
Island. It has a small,
deep harbor, which is
shaped like the letter
T. Its narrow, chan-
nel-like entrance forms
the stem of the letter,

re is 10
un life;
lonely
ks, gila-
. forests.
orth lie
irlotte’s
. a little
me. To
ches the
of Van-
hores of
e known.
has been
lored. It
ever, that
ny moun-
st forests
1s pine in
he island.
he capital
lumbia, is
the south-
7ancouver
1s a small,
which is
the letter
row, chan-
ince forms
the letter,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 147

and, in the wider part of the harbor, all but the very
largest ships can anchor safely.

Victoria is a charming place, which seems more like
an English town than an American city. The houses
are not crowded closely together, but stretch along the
streets in a leisurely, neighborly fashion, with large,
pleasant dooryards and gardens. The modern improve-
ments of gaslight and telephones have found their way
to this remote svot, so that the astonished cornfields are
illuminated and telephone messages fly across the vege-
table gardens.

‘he climate is almost perfect. Instead of being the
cold, bleak place we should expect it to be in winter,
Victoria is very mild and pleasant. The thermometer
seldom falls below twenty-three degrees in winter, or
rises above seventy-two degrees in summer. The sum-
mer lasts from May to September.

Early May is enchanting. The sky is a beautiful
blue; the warm s.ushine begins to open the delicately
tinted buds; the meadows are dotted with buttercups
and daisies, and tall, scarlet lilies rise from the fields.
Mild southerly winds prevail during eight months of
the year, and altogether the climate of Victoria is won-
derfully adapted to invalids.

The Indians are the laborers in British Columbia.
They take the place and perform the general duties of
the negroes at the South. They are the “hands ” of the
sawmills, the “crew” on the steamboats, and the “long-
shoremen” on the wharves. ‘They act as teamsters and
coachmen, while the women are employed as house ser-
vants.

poe See es np ecnceronrentnete Oe NE I

148 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

——so

The Indians of Vancouver Island are called Flatheads.
They are so named because each Indian has a flattened
brow, caused by his parents binding a board across his
skull during infancy.

The houses in the Indian villages are not wigwams,
but square or oblong huts with flat roofs. The walls
and ceilings are of cedar planks, while the floors are of
earth. Often several families occupy one house. The
hut is then about eighty feet long and twenty feet wide.
There are no partitions, but each famil, has its own fire-
side, around which it draws its few goods and about
which its poor home life centres.

Many of the Indians of these villages are engaged in
the seal fishery. The seals enter the Gulf of Georgia
in March, and all through the spring the Indians are
busy catching them, and the women are engaged in
trying out the blubber. c

The Indians formerly went to the sealing grounds in
their canoes, starting at early dawn from the shore.
Now schooners are chartered which transport both In-
dians and canoes to the scene of action. A few years
ago two hundred thousand seals were captured, whose
skins were valued at an average of one hundred dollars
apiece. The schooners receive one-third of the seals
taken by the Indians.

British Columbia has a great future before her. Al-
though not an agricultural state, her forests and fisheries
are unsurpassed. As for the mineral wealth, she has
but to open one of her rich mines of gold, and men from
the ends of the earth flock to her borders to build towns
and cities and otherwise benefit her territory.

TE a ree A

etn)

son rara pacar a

itheads.
lattened
ross his

igwams,
he walls
‘s are of
e. The
et wide.
own fire-
id about

gaged in

Georgia
lians are
raged in

‘ounds in
1e shore.
both In-
few years
2d, whose
2d dollars
the seals

her. Al-
d fisheries
, she has
men from
Lild towns

‘7
i
j

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

MEXICO.

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

MOUNT POPOCATAPETL.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGILBORS.

MEXICO.

CHAPTER XIII.
A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF MEXICO.

A part of the southern boundary of our country is
the Rio Grande. Standing on the low, sandy shores of
this great river and looking across its sluggish waters,
you may see, high up on the opposite hillside, a white
monument. This is a sign that all the land on the fur-
ther side of the river belongs no longer to the United
States, but to our American neighbor of the south, — to
Mexico.

Mexico is about one-fifth as large as our own country.
It lies between the great United States on the north,
and the little states of Central America on the south.
Its eastern shores are washed by the sparkling blue
waters of the Gulf of Mexico; against its western shores
roll the solemn surges of the Pacific Ocean.

Almost the whole of Mexico consists of a great table-
land, shaped like a cornucopia. Its average height is
about five thousand feet, and across it from north to
south run many ranges of mountains. The principal

151

ene

mney

_earamenenatagenntier, monet

SS ee ee eee

Pasi ae ie ese

Nei
ieahatconienttoen

152 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-s-—

range is called the Sierra Madre. Single peaks of these
mountains are fifteen thousand to eighteen thousand
feet high, and snow rests upon their summits all the
year round, There are valleys between these moun-
tains which are sometimes green and fertile, but more
often dry and dusty.

Toward the south two parallel ranges cross the pla-

teau from east ‘vu west, at right ungles with the Sierra
Madre. Many of these mountains are shaped like cones,
and have deep hollows in their summits. They are vol-
canoes, and some of them are still active. The City of
Mexico is situated close by the more northern of these
parallel ranges of volcanoes.

The plateau is not alwavs of the same heigh® through-
out the country. It rises and falls, sometimes in a series
of gradual slopes, sometimes in a aumber of abrupt
terraces. From the United States boundary the ptateau
rises in easy stages to the City of Mexico. Roughly
peaking, it may be said to rise about one thousand feet
to each of the states between the northern border and
the capital.

The central plateau of Mexico approaches close to the
Pacific coast, to which it descends in steep, rocky ter-
races. From the nature of the shore one might expect
to find many good harbors on this coast, but there are
only two.

The plateau stretchys eastward until within forty
miles of the Gulf, where it stops abruptly. Conse-
quently a railroad train going from the coast to the

City of Mexico has to climb this immense cliff, eigh*
shousand feet in height. The coast berdering on the

Siesta Secreto oee Ln ee

j
j
'
;
|
|
|

f these
lousand
all the
. moun-
it more

the pla-
« Sierra
‘e cones,
are vol-
City of
of these

through-
1 a Series
f abrupt
» plateau
Roughly
sand feet
rder and

»se to the
ocky ter-
it expect
there are

hin forty

Conse-
st to the
liff, eigh’
1g on the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 153

Gulf is very low and sandy. There are no good harbors,
because sand bars, marshes, and salt water lakes line the
whole shore.

Because of the hilly nature of the country, the rivers
are short and navigable only a little distance from their
mouths. There are two systems of rivers, —those of
the Gulf of Mexico and those of the Pacific slope.

Most of the rivers of the Pacific slope are scarcely
more than streams or brooks, and come leaping and
bou.ding down the rocky terraces to the sea, Some
have cut down into the plateau at least five hundred
feet to make a channel for themselves. Far below, their
waters can be heard roaring and chafing in their narrow
beds.

The streams that flow into the Gulf of Mexico run
slowly and sluggishly, and often seem to lose them-
selves in the sand. The Rio Grande is the largest river
of this system, but it is like the others in being navi-
gable only a few miles from its mouth. It has been said
“to flow under its bed,” because of the many sand bars
and quicksands that appear on its waters.

There are but a few lakes in Mexico, and these are
situated on the plateau between the mountains. Some
are drained by rivers; but many have no outlet, and so
become salt and continually diminish in size. There are
several beautiful little lakes about the City of Mexico,
which, by reflecting the snowy mountain peaks around
them in their clear waters, greatly increase the beauty
of the region.

The many states of Mexico may be divided into five
groups. There are the northern states, where the dry,

se RR ea

Ss ROIS EET NEEL TT OEE LT LI ECG TT I TL

154 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

“8 -o—

dusty plains are overgrown with cactuses, and where
the cattle and the cowboys range at will; there are the
rich, silver-mining states in the centre of the country,
clustering about Zacatecas and San Louis Potosi;
thirdly, there are the states grouped about the City of
Mexico, which produce maguey ; fourthly, to the east
of the capital there are the tobacco states on the Gulf ;
and lastly, to the southwest, the coffee and cocoa states.

With this general grouping clear in the mind, let us
turn to a more particular study of Mexico.

CHAPTER XIV.
BY RAIL TO THE CITY OF MEXICO.

To an American boy, the passing of a railroad train is
as common a sight as the floating cloud in the sky. He
has been so accustomed to its whirl, rattle, and swiftness,
that he almost forgets that there ever was a time when
the steam engine was a new and wonderful sight. To
the Mexican, the engine is still a marvel; for it is only
within a few years that the useful “ iron horse” crossed
the Rio Grande.

The common people were much opposed to its com-
ing. They even appealed to their gods to protect them
against it. In one village, they bore their great stone
idol to the track, and placed him between the shining
steel rails, with his face turned forbiddingly in the
direction of the coming train. ‘They believed that he

it ED

i
i
;
i
i

1 where
are the
country,
Potosi ;
City of
the east
re Gulf;
av states.
d, let us

d train is
sky. He
swiftness,
ime when
ight. To
it is only
” crossed

y its com-
tect them
reat stone
e shining
ly in the
d that he

j
|
i
i
i

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 155

would turn back their foe, and with shouts of praise
they waited to see the engine crushed.

At length the train appeared in the distance, and
breathlessly they watched its approach. ‘To their amaze-
ment, it thundered by unhurt, and their idol, who was
to have saved them from this smoky monster, lay shat-
tered in a hundred pieces on the track.

This story shows what the steam engine is to do for
Mexico. It is to overthrow all the narrow, antic ated
customs that she has held for centuries. Her gates
have been firmly closed to foreigners and foreign im-
provements, and only recently have they been slowly
swinging open for the entrance of the steam engine, the
telegraph, the electric light, and the other blessings of
our day. Mexico is at last waking up, and it is the
ringing of the engine bell that has been her summons
to arise.

Railroads now form a dense network throughout
Mexico. All the large cities are reached by one or
more lines of railroad. The Mexican Central runs from
the Rio Grande to the City of Mexico. Let us see
what impressions of the country we may obtain, both
from the car windows, and by stopping for a short time
in one or another of the large cities on our way.

During the first few hundred miles, the landscape is
somewhat dull and monotonous. Dark brown or gray-
ish plains stretch away on either hand. Here and there
may be seen tufts of coarse, green grass, or fleshy
eactuses. A whirling sandspout is no uncommon sight.

The distant mountains furnish the only bit of color
in this dreary spot, and they glow with rich tints of

SEE aC acai: apartament

1 Ts

—

156 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

yellow and purple. If we were to pass here in the
rainy season, which lasts from May to October, the
plain would be covered with coarse grass; but now
the only fertile regions are where the water from some
little brook is used for irrigation.

Nowhere does the railroad pass directly through a
town or city. The town is always a mile away, and
is reached by horse cars across the plain. Often, in the
early sunrise and in’ the late sunset the towers and
domes of the churches and the walls of the low stone
houses are bright with pink and purple, or yellow and
blue.

Many of the common people are seen clustering about
the railroad station. Both the men and the women are
exceedingly dark and plain. They have straight, dark
hair and lustreless black eyes.

The men are dressed in coarse cotton trousers and
jackets, and are wrapped in gay blankets. The blankets
of the very poor are soiled and worn to tatters. The
real pride of the Mexican is in his hat, and for this he
saves his pennies until he is able to purchase a som-
brero, with a high crown, wide brim, and elaborate
decorations. The finer the hat, the better the man,
according to the Mexican opinion.

The sombrero is of felt or straw, with a brim at least
six inches wide. The edge of the brim is elaborately
decorated with silver embroidery or silver buttons.
About the crown is fastened a silver band and buckle
or a cord ending in silver tassels. The cost of a som-
brero is sometimes hundreds of dollars.

The outdoor garment of the women is a kind of blue

» in the
her, the
but now
om some

rough a
vay, and
n, in the
vers and
ow stone
‘low and

ing about
‘omen are
ght, dark

users and
» blankets
ers. The
or this he
se a som-
elaborate
the man,

im at least
laborately
r buttons.
ind buckle
of a som-

ind of blue

}

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 157

—-O-e

cotton scarf, which is draped about the head and shoul-
ders. When a woman carries her baby, the searf is
arranged so as to form a kind of hood in which the
baby is slung at the side, and partially supported on the
hip. The little one looks very pretty, as it peeps with
its bright eyes from the folds of blue drapery.

Often the woman carries upon her shoulder at the
same time a water jar of dark red pottery. One would
think the two burdens would cause her to bend and
sway in her walk. But it is not so, She steps as freely
and gracefully as if she bore no weight at all.

The little children, — how pretty they are! They
have dark, lustrous eyes, rosy cheeks, and tine white
teeth that gleam roguishly through the parting red lips.
Dirty and poorly clad though they may be, they seem
the jolliest, happiest, little people imaginable.

Now we are entering a more fertile region, Many
fine plantations skirt the track. Each plantation con-
sists of several ranches, all ruled over by one wealthy
man. They sometimes contain more than two hundred
square miles, and include hills, valleys, plains, and rivers.
Small villages arise within the plantations; schools,
churches, and sometimes hospitals, are built by the
owner for the benefit of the workmen and their families.

As we whiz past the plantations, interesting glimpses
are obtained of fields of waving wheat; flocks of silky
white goats, driven by goatherds ; and herds of sturdy
cattle, followed by spirited horsemen, known as cow-
boys.

The ranches are of two kinds, — fenced and unfenced.
When they are fenced, except at branding and driving

os
ee er en

eT RR S| ee

es ae

~ : re >

158 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

times, the work of the cowboy is not hard. Each has
to take his turn at line riding, that is, he has to ri‘cu
along the line of the fence every few days, to see that it
is in repair. In these great ranches it is a work of days ;
and the cowboy, rolling himself in his blanket, camps
at night where the twilight happens to overtake him.
He sleeps under the open, starry sky, with his horse
quietly grazing near.

When the ranches are not enclosed, the cowboys have
to be continually alert that the thousands of cattle do
not stray away.

The cowboy is a wonderfully fine rider. He and his
horse are insep*rable. The latter loves his mas*sr and
obeys his slightest word. The life of the cowboy is a
free, happy, outdoor existence ; and he himself, mounted
on horseback, in buckskin trousers, fine riding boots, and
with a broad sombrero shading his dark face, makes a
memorable picture.

Long lines of mountains, stained purple, gray, and
yellow by the minerals upon their surface, have been
running parallel to the track, although at a distance
from it, so far during the journey. Now the mountains
close around us, and we find ourselves moving in zigzag
lines up their heights to the city of Zacatecas.

The great yawning mines and the small granite or
marble posts which mark the limits of claims, all bear
testimony to the fact that one of the great mining cen-
tres is close at hand.

Mexico is very truly said to have a backbone of silver,
with ribs of gold. The Sierra Madre coniains rich mines
of silver through the greater part of its length.

saith Aisa ag lane

ee eee ener

SRR ete Asc Monehin Gest ow

tr sasnlecte

1. Each has
e has to rile
to see that it
vork of days 5
anket, camps
vertake him.
ith his horse

cow boys have
s of cattle do

He and his
tis mas‘sr and
e cowboy is a
iself, mounted
ling boots, and

face, makes a

ple, gray, and
ce, have been
at a distance
the mountains
ving in zigzag
ecas.

nall granite or
Jaims, all bear
at mining cen-

kbone of silver,
vains rich mines
ongth.

i
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i
:
i
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i
3

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 159

—e2-o—

A party of convicts hiding from justice were the first
to discover this hidden wealth. ‘They kindled a fire
upon some boulders which they had used for making a
rude fireplace. The fire so heated the rocks that gleam-
ing veins of silver were revealed to them. With great
joy they informed the government of their discovery,
were pardoned, and made their fortunes. From that
time, mining has been one of the chief sources of wealth
to the country.

Suddenly the train stops on the summit of a hill;
and, on the slopes of the opposite hillside, eight thousand
feet above the level of the sea, we behold the city of
Zacatecas. The sunset light reveals its narrow, straight
streets, bordered by low houses of but one story. The
walls are of plaster, tinted bright blue, red, green,
end yellow. The general effect of the streets, sc far as
culor is concerned, is cheerful; but as the houses have
no windows looking out upon the street, the blank wall,
however brilliantly colored, becomes in time extremely
monotonous and wearisome.

Above all the city towers the great cathedral, and
high on a neighboring hill a cross is planted. Those
who know, say that Zacatecas is very much like cities in
the Holy Land.

All about the hills and valleys may be seen proofs of
the great industry of the city. Mines open in the hill-
sides, and the tall, smoking chimneys of refining works
tower into the sky. The refining works are well forti-
fied, and capable of withstanding attacks of mountain
robbers eager to reach the silver prize within.

As the night darkens, men laden with ore, and trains

160 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-—so

of little donkeys bearing the same precious metal, pass
by on their way to the city. Donkeys, or burros, as
they are called in Mexico, are tiny little animals vary-
ing from the size of a Newfoundland dog to that of a
heifer three years old. They have long ears and mild,
patient faces. Everywhere in Mexico they may be seen
carrying enormous burdens ; and, indeed, they are often
so hidden under their load that only four tiny, trotting
hoofs and the tips of two ears are visible.

As we wander through the streets of Zacatecas,
glimpses of beautiful gardens can sometimes be ob-
tained through half-opened doors. The Mexican houses
turn their most charming side inward. They are built
in the form of a hollow
square. In the centre,
and protected by the
encircling walls-of the
house, is the court-
yard, upon which the
windows look and the
doors open.

This courtyard is a
beautiful spot. It is
thickly carpeted with
green turf, with pretty paved walks encircling and
crossing it. In the centre is the well, with a broad
stone coping. Shrubs and brilliant flowers are to be
seen everywhere, and the rippling of the fountain
adds its charm to the lovely spot. Gorgeous parrots
and sweet-voiced mocking birds hang in gilded cages
amongst the foliage or against the gray wall of the

A PATIENT BURRO.

|
|
i
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;

etal, pass
DULTOS, as
nals vary-
that of a
und mild,
y be seen
are often
, trotting

Zacatecas,
es be ob-
an houses
are built
a hollow
he centre,
d by the
lls-of the
1e court-
vhich the
< and the

yard is a
t. It is
sted with
cling and
1 a broad
are to be

fountain
us parrots
ded cages
ull of the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 161

fhe

house; vain peacocks strut about; and a flock of gray
doves now flutter overhead, and now swing slowly down
to the pavement. Children prattle and run about;
and the dark-eyed, languid women of the household
either doze in the hammocks swung between the stone
posts of the house, or busy themselves with their won-
derful lacework, fine as a cobweb.

The next large city on the route to Mexico is Aguas
Calientes, which means in English, hot springs. The
hot springs for which the city is named and noted lie
in the midst of a rich plain. Bath houses are built over
the springs, and contain rooms fitted up for sponge,
douche, and swimming baths.

The bather chooses the kind of a bath that he will
take; and then he is shown into an apartment with
high, stone wails, open overhead to the deep blue sky.
The tank is often square, and is reached by descending
a few stone steps. The depth and temperature of the
water is arranged according to the wish of the bather.

The water, as it escapes from the bath house, runs
through a walled ditch by the side of the road. The
water in the ditch is about three feet deep; and here,
at all times, may be seen crowds of men, women, and
children enthusiastically washing their clothes. After
they spread these on the gmss to dry, they bathe them-
selves.

No one who has ever seen this busy scrubbing crowd
could believe that the natural tendency of the Mexican
was not toward cleanliness. ‘Che reason why his gar-
ments and himself are generally dirty is that water in
most of the cities of Mexico is not easily obtained. He

ook, fag SAN Ray Hee LN ROR BA

162 THE WORLD AND ITS PECPLE.

—-o-o—

has either to wait hours at the public fountain for a
chance to fill his water jar or to buy water from the
water carrier.

The poorer Mexican cannot afford to patronize the
water carrier, and so goes unwashed. But wherever
water is abundant and free, as in the city of Aguas
Calientes, there the Mexican is scrupulously clean.

Guanajuato, one of the quaintest, most old-fashioned
cities in the world, must not be passed by. It is one of
the many mining cities of Mexico, and is situated in a
-avine between lofty, upright cliffs. The houses are
built on the sides of the cliffs, and cling to their faces,
as frightened birds cling to the perpendicular bars of
their cages. One is almost afraid to breathe lest the
delicately balanced buildings should tumble into the
valley below, a mass of ruins.

The streets are narrow, some of them not more than
a yard wide. In some cases the people ascend from
terrace to terrace by flights of stairs. The houses of
the poorer class are built of coarse clay, and huddle
closely together in the lower part of the town. The
better class of houses are built of a kind of variegated
stone which is found in the neighborhood, and are of
many colors. Some are red, some green, others blue,
and still others the color of chocolate.

This is the only city in Mexico where the houses are
more than one or two stories in height. Here they are
of four stories, with a great court on the flat roof con-
taining fountains and flowers. The effect of these lofty
courts, or sky parlors, as they might be called, is
unusual and very pretty.

un for a
from the

onize the
wherever
of Aguas
ean.
fashioned
is one of
lated in a
ouses are
reir faces,
uv bars of
e lest the
into the

more than
end from
houses of
il huddle
wh, The
variegated
nd are of
hers blue,

houses are
re they are
t roof con-
these lofty

called, is

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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 163

—-io

In Guanajuato one is always climbing up or going
down hill. Such interesting glimpses into the life of
the city as may be obtained from different parts of the
hillside! To the left is the courtyard of a pottery
manufactory, where the graceful vessels of reddish clay
glitter in ‘he sunlight like rubies; directly below lies
the green square of the central courtyard of the city,
the plaza, as it is called, surrounded by the church
and other important buildings; to the right a most
curious sight awaits our attention. In an open court-
yard many mules and Indians are marching about in
regular order, trampling down a mass of clay two feet
in depth.

What is the object of this slow, painful labor? It is
to separate the silver from the clay. For three hundred
years the work has been carried on in just this way.
An attempt has been made to use steam power for this
work, but it is so expensive and Indian labor is so cheap
that the old-fashioned way is still followed. Week after
week, year after year, the Indian toils on, with no more
animation than if he were a machine, or the patient
mule, his fellow laborer. He works until he dies, after
a life shortened by his unhealthy toil.

The hills about Guanajuato, like those about Zacatecas
and the other mining cities of Mexico, are tunneied by
mines and capped by silver refineries. The mines can
be visited, but it is a very tedious and dangerous under-
taking.

Some workmen spend twelve hours a day in the
mines —six hours in working and six in going down
into the mines and returning. The vein in which the

164 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o—

men are at work is a three hours’ journey from the clear
sunlight and the fresh air.

‘Terrible dangers attend their daily descent. Shrouded
in thick darkness, they move along on the edge of hor-
rible precipices, scale rickety ladders which are not
fastened to the terraces that they connect, and go
through passages as narrow as the grave, — all with the
knowledge that a false step means a fall of hundreds of
feet, with certain death at the bottom.

We return to Guanajuato in a horse car drawn by
mules. The driver is armed with a fish horn, with which
he warns wagons and people off the track. Sometimes
the blasts of the horn are very frequent, as the road
from the mines is blocked with burros, carrying their
usual miscellaneous burdens.

One is laden with leathern bags of silver ore ; another
carries nets of large oranges to be sold in the city at
the rate of one hundred for seventy-five cents; a third
bears a crate of live turkeys; a fourth, bags of charcoal ;
and, funniest of all, a fifth small burro carries, strapped
on his back, an immense black pig, which keeps up a
continuous squealing and grunting. The burro, how-
ever, does not seem to mind the antics of his animated
burden, but, with hanging head, keeps doggedly on his
way.

The fields around Guanajuato are fenced with the
organ-pipe cactus. This prickly plant grows in long,
atti valk which do, deed! ee the upright aioe
of an organ. They are two or three inches thick, and,
growing as they do from twenty to thirty feet high,
they form a hedge so close and compact that one must

jase aati isa le

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 165
oe
he clear grow wings to pass the boundary at any spot, other
than the gate itself.

irouded The products of the different towns are offered for
of hor- sale at the various stations on the road. In one place
wre not beautiful roses can be purchased at the rate of six cents
and go for a bunch as large as the head. Pretty Indian bas-
vith the kets of grass, full of strawberries, are offered for sale at
lreds of twenty-five cents apiece. But, alas, one finds thaé the
| Mexicans are frauds, so far as the trick of heaping the
awn by ripe berries temptingly on the top is concerned! Fully
h which one-half of the basket is filled with cabbage leaves; then
netimes comes a layer of green berries; and, lastly, there are
he road about twenty-five sweet, red, delicious berries, most art-

ig their fully arranged.
At Queretaro the tourist buys opals. Handfuls of
another the uncut stones are passed in at the car window. Ex-
city at clamations of wonder and delight follow; and, as the

shining gems are shifted from hand to hand, taking
lovely colors in the sunshine, the traveler’s heart

a third
harcoal ;

ili ait sia

trapped and purse are won, and he buys scores for a very
ps up a small sum.

ro, how- The opals are about the size of one’s thumb nail, and
nimated | are yellow, green, and red in color. They are mostly
y on his of inferior quality, and would rarely pay for cutting.

Occasionally, however, a gem of value is discovered.

vith the And now certain changes in the landscape show that
in long, the capital is near. The roads widen, the fields are
rht pipes greener and show a more careful cultivation, the vil-
ick, and, lages and towns become more numerous, and the people
et high, | crowd the streets more densely. Those great stone
ne must arches, running parallel with the track, are the aque-

pee ai . - Sto er ate Spe nae eaten ne nears Sn STR AE SHEN RRR: nr RE RRR

166 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

ducts which supply the city with waver from the neigh-
boring hills.

Are those clouds high in the air? No; they are not
clouds. They are sno -coverer. muntains, the great

volcanoes of Popovatay ti ans a fae thuatl ; aad belov
them, with its domes, tu: ‘ag, and the white walls
of its many houses, : lin.) ) ‘1 ‘49 southern sunlight,

lies the very heart of all the country, ° City of Mexico.

CHAPTER XV.
IN THE CAPITAL.

The City of Mexico is situated in the midst of a cir-
cular plain, thirty-five miles in diameter. The plain is
surrounded by lofty mountains, the most conspicuous
of which are Popocatapetl and Iztaccihuatl, the white
volvanoes which lie to the southeast. On the surface
of the plain of Mexico are several lakes, among which,
in the very lowest and most marshy spot, is built the
city itself.

The foundations of many of the houses are covered
with water. As there is practically no drainage and
very little knowledge of the laws of health, there would
be many more deaths than there are, if it were not for
the perfect climate and the healthful elevation of the
city. Lake Chalco, the fresh water lake from which
Mexico is supplied with water by aqueducts, lies to the
south; and Lake Tuzcoca, a brackish pond with white,
chalky shores, to the east.

‘ ane .
UR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 167
~o-

-neigh- Mexico is bi...t in the form of a square, three miles
on aside. Ji streets are all very straight. and run
are not from north t) south and from east to west. They are
2 great broad, well paved, an? lightca by gas. Often the vista
1 beloy of a street seems to be tilled by a great mountain, which

te walls | appears close at hand, but is, in reality, miles distant.
unlight, The houses bordering the streets are generally of two
Mexico. stories, enclosing a courtyard. They have the usual
pretty tints of red, pink, yellow, and cream color; but
| are unlike the houses we have noticed heretofore, in
having a few windows with small balconies looking
| upon the street. On festive occasions these balconies,

when filled with the brightly dressed women of the
household, add much beauty to the monotonous street.

of a cir- The ladies of the higher class do not wear the reboza,
plain is which is only for the lower class of women. They

spicuous throw over their heads and draw over the lower part of

1e white their faces, up to their eyes, elegant Spanish lace scarfs.
surface

The young girls are charmingly prett®, with their slen-
der oval faces, olive skins, dark eyes, delicate features,
and little hands and feet.

Any of the principal streets will bring us into the
Great Plaza. This is a large square garden, about
which stand the Cathedral, the National Palace, and
other important public buildings. The plaza is very
beautiful with shady walks, brilliant flower beds, and
stone seats where one may rest and enjoy the beautiful
view before him.

The plaza is always a lively spot. ‘The common peo-
ple have many stalls here at which they offer for sale
fruits, flowers, small sugar cakes, and the various hot

4 which,
yuilt’ the

covered
age and
re would
e not for
n of the
m which
es to the
th white,

Es Ri 3 " ~ sheen rere — 28 ern RE ERE

168 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

little dishes of which the average Mexican is so fond.
Women sitting on the pavement beside a rude stone
oven, will bake for you, while you wait, a hot cake the
size of a lima bean.

At stated times during the week, the band plays in
the plaza, drawing large crowds of this music-loving

THE CATHEDRAL OF MEXICO.

people. The various lines of horse cars start here, and
the throng of worshipers entering or leaving the cathe-
dral cross the plaza, which might be valled the pulse of
Mexico, so strongly does the city’s life throb through it.

The Mexican cathedral with its twin towers and
mighty dome, rises on the northern side of the plaza.
It is the largest church in America, and is built in the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 169
o-oo
so fond. shape of a Greek cross. Its length, its greatest dimen-
le stone sion, is over four hundred feet.
cake the The cathedral was over one hundred years in building.

We can easily believe that fact when we notice its great
magnificence both within and without. ‘The walls alone
cost two million dollars. They are of granite, much
carved and otherwise ornamented, Within this great
shell there are many chapels. Three of them are so

plays in

sic-loving

large that when the bronze doors connecting them with
the main cathedral are closed, three large churches are
formed in which services are sometimes held at the
same time.

The dome is gorgeously painted with great figures
illustrating Bible stories; the pillars of the altars are of
clear, green stone, resembling malachite in color, while
the altars themselves are one blaze of gold and silver.

The railings leading to the principal altar and sur-
rounding it, are a very rich alloy of gold, silver, and
copper. An offer has been made to exchange this rail-
ing for one of solid silver; but so rich is the present
railing in gold, that those in authority have always
refused the offer.

Everything about the cathedral bears testimony to
its age and wealth. The priests have robes so rich and
heavy in ornaments, so embroidered in gold and adorned
with gems, that they can searcely be worn. Everywhere
are large and brilliant paintings, and the books are coy-
ered with fine vellum.

Without the church, at the foot of the western tower,
half hidden under flowering vines, lies a heap of broken
columns and curiously carved stones. Over them is

here, and
the cathe-
1e pulse of
through it.
owers and
the plaza.
uilt in the

Steen pee nan AEN

170 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

this inscription: “Stones from the bloody altar of
Huitzilopolatli.”

Nearly four hundred years ago, when the early Span-
ish discoverer, Cortez, came to Mexico, he found a
heathen altar to the god of the Aztecs, where the
Mexican cathedral now stands. The temple was cone-
shaped, and about it wound a staircase loading to the
altar at the summit. Up this stairway on great relig-
ious feast days wound long trains of captives taken in
war. The priests received them, and, laying them one
by one on the great sacrificial stone, tore out their
hearts and held them high in the air as an offering to
the stern god.

This sacrificial stone can be seen at the National
Museum with many other relics of that ancient time.
Here are the old idols, either whole or in fragments ;
and here is also the Calendar Stone of the Aztecs. * This
is a large, circular stone covered with characters so
strange that, although many learned men have tried to
decipher them, none have succeeded.

The eastern end of the plaza is occupied by the Na-
tional Palace. This is a very long, low structure with
many rows of windows. A part of the palace contains
the private home of the President, and the rest is taken
up by government offices. An observatory and the office
of the weather bureau is also located in this building.

It is Sunday morning in the city of Mexico. From
early dawn the chureh bells have been ringing. The
Mexican bell ringers never move the bells themselves ;
they merely move the tongues. Consequently, the
sound of the bell is not a deep, mellow roll as it is in

spi ha Reson a ita

altar of

‘ly Span-
found a
rere the
vis cone-
g to the
at relig-
taken in
hem one
ut their
fering to

National
nt time.
ements 5
is. ° This
vcters so
» tried to

7 the Na-
ture with
contains
is taken
the office
ilding.

» Krom
ig. The
mselves ;
itly, the
s it is in

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:
3

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 171

—-o-

the United States, but a feeble little note very apt to
be cracked.

The discordant sounds of the many bells might almost
distract the traveler if it were not that the morning
itself is beautiful enough to drive all adverse eriticism
away. The sky is clear blue, the sun bright, the trees
and grass a vivid green, and the common people, on

THE NATIONAL PALACE, MEXICO.

their way to morning mass, look very clean in their
freshly starched garments.

Mass is said in the cathedral every hour. All through
the morning the great doors are opening and shutting
after the entering and departing crowds.

After church many of the people proceed to do their
marketing. South of the plaza is one of the principal
markets of the city. We will fo ow the throng and
see what a Mexican market is like.

so meg ee pote eee

172 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Before us is a great, square, stone building entered
by four doors, one in the centre of each side. Within
is a large courtyard, only part of which is roofed. Open
booths stand beneath the covered part of the courtyard ;
while those booths which are in the uncovered part, are
protected by mears of oblong pieces of matting, sup-
ported on pcles. Beneath the mattings, the women and
children sit on the ground and display their goods.

Here housekeepers can purchase all the vegetables,
fruits, and meats necessary for an excellent dinner.
Potatoes the size of walnuts, chile peppers, beans of
every imaginable size and shape, gigantic squashes, tiny
sarrots and onions, all are arranged in tempting heaps
on the ground. Luscious oranges and great sweet mel-
ons are piled up on every side.

Men with fowls in hencoops wander about the market,
looking for a customer. A young Indian girl offérs you
a pair of live chickens, which she holds by the legs.

Some cooking goes on behind these stalls. The uni-
versal tortilla, both fried and baked, can be bought here.
The silent, busy Mexican woman rolls and beats the
flour into a circular shape upon a large, flat stone; then
she drops it into a frying pan, cccasionally dusting it
with an herby powder, and dipping the fat over it.
After a few moments it is cooked, and handed to the
customer. Fowls stewed with chile beans, and beans
cooked in various other ways, are also offered for sale.

The deep red Mexican pottery is displayed in a few
stalls. The shapes are very graceful, and the ware
appears strong: but it is, in reality, very frail and deli-
cate. Here, also, the most beautiful flowers can be

Be Oe

ding entered
ide. Within
r0fed. Open
re courtyard ;
ered part, are
matting, sup-
e women and
ir goods.

e vegetables,
‘Ment dinner.
ers, beans of
squashes, tiny
mpting heaps
at sweet mel-

it the market,
rirl offers you
the legs.

ls. The uni-
» bought here.
wd beats the
i stone; then
lly dusting it
> fat over it.
1anded to the
ns, and beans
fered for sale.
ryed in a few
und the ware
frail and deli-
owers can be

anaes

GAS EEE is a

cerss

eee Sr ee ee

‘|
;
2
|

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 173

_—-s-<-—

bought for a few pennies.
trope, and camelias of the most exquisite coloring.

We see roses, pansies, helio-

The Mexican flowers are remarkable for the depth
and intensi.y of their tints.
pink more dainty, the white purer, the yellow more

The red is more vivid, the
glowing, than can be seen elsewhere. Then the flowers
are remarkable for their size.
a dollar, and a poppy would cover a dinner plate.

The growing plants are large in proportion. Think
of geraniums the height of a tall man, and rhododen-
drons twenty feet high! These are not unusual cases,
but customary sights; for the lovely flowers lavish their
beauty all over this region, — calla lilies lifting their
fair, stately heads from the ditch at the roadside, and
poppies flourishing in neglected corners of the field.

After laying in a store of the various good things
which the market affords, the Mexicans return to their
homes, partake of a light noonday meal, and rest during
the heat of the day.

Five o’clock finds nearly every one in the fashionable
drive of the city. This is a broad road, three miles in
length, leading southward to the Castle of Chapultepec.

At regular intervals in the road, circular flower beds
are tastefully planted. It is the intention of the govern-
ment to place a statue of some national hero in the centre
of each flower bed, but as yet only three of the plots are
thus adorned. The broad drive, winding about these
eight circles, shaded by large trees and bordered by
lawns and shrubbery, is a very attractive spot.

On Sundays the people of wealth and fashion drive
here, while the poorer classes either walk in the park.

The pansy is as large as

174 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

or rest on the benches beside the road. Most of the
carriages are elegant ; the horses are fine, spirited crea-
tures; and servants in livery attend the beautiful dark-
eyed ladies, who are wrapped in lace mantillas. Horse-
men eurvet and prance along the drive, bowing low to
the friends they meet.

Some of the horses have trappings fit for the steed of
a prince. The saddlecloth is embroidered with silver,
and edged with silver fringe. The saddle and bridle
are heavily inlaid with silver; while the riding coat and
sombrero of the horseman are richly ornamented with
fringe, buttons, and cords of the same metal.

Three miles south of Mexico, at the end of the avenue,
a mass of rock about two hundred feet high rises abruptly.
On the summit of this gray rock is built the Castle of
Chapultepec, which is r sached by a road winding through
the cypress grove at the base of the cliff up to its top.

This cypress wood is very ancient. One tree, called
Montezuma’s tree, is over forty feet in circumference,
and must be at least three centuries old. Clambering
about the giant trunks, festooning the boughs, and link-
ing cypress with cypress grows the gray Spanish moss.
The drive through the shadowy wood up to the small,
open hilltop is charming.

The Castle of Chapultepec is used by the president of
Mexico as a summer residence. It has been redecorated
and refurnislied in the most exquisite taste. A part of
the building is occupied by the Mexican military acad-
emy. There are three hundred boys at school here
learning the art of war.

These slender, dark-eyed soldier boys show you a

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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 17

tablet erected to the memory of the cadets who fell
fighting against the United States troops, in the battle,
during the Mexican War, that occurred at the foot of
Chapultepec.

The young soldiers bore themselves like heroes; and
their successors at the present day say, with flashing
eyes, that if the regular troops had equalled these

motte ey Coyne

THE CASTLE OF CHAPULTEPEC.

young volunteers in bravery, the United States would
never have taken the capital.

The view from Chapultepec is one of the widest and
most beautiful in Mexico. ‘The whole circular valley is
seen below, with its lakes, its richly cultivated fields, its
canals, its stone-arched aqueducts, and the city itself at
its centre. All around stand the mountains, with Popo-
catapetl and Iztaccihuatl highest of them all.

176 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—--f--—

Iztaccihuatl means “Snowy Maiden,” and, from sume
points of the compass, the snow upon her summit and
the glaciers on her sides combine to look precisely as
if a maiden, with clasped hands and closed eyes, were
lying there in deathlike slumber.

Popocatapetl means * Smoky Mountain,” and he, the
Mexicans say, looks on in grim sorrow at the eternal
slumber of the * Snowy Maiden.” If you ask, they will
tell you a little romance which has the two mountains
for the hero and the heroine.

Sunday evening is spent by high and low in the plaza.
The band plays sweet music, and the Mexicans stroll
through the avenues, lighted by the moon, amid fragrant
flowers and singing birds. Thus the day pleasantly
ends. Sunday in Mexico is in fact a gala day.

One pleasant excursion from Mexico is up the Viga
canal to the floating gardens of Lake Chaleo. This
canal connects Lake Chalco with the City of Mexico,
and forms the highway down which the vegetables raised
on the floating gardens are brought to the markets.

It is not a very agreeable section of the city where
we embark. But our flat-bottomed boat is soon speed-
ing over the water, propelled by the brawny arms of the
Indian boatman. He is dressed in white cotton; and,
squatting on the floor of the boat, shoving with the
pole, now on one side, now on the other, he gives the
boat a swaying movement which soon becomes very
agreeable.

We pass many market boats piled with pale green
cabbages, scarlet tomatoes, beets, and onions. Other
boats are covered with the loveliest flowers. Poppies,

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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 177

——o

roses, and peonies lie about in light, sweet masses. The
tinkle of a guitar comes softly over the water; a Mexi-
can horseman gallops along the edge of the canal like
a flash of silver; children of all ages and sizes, with
dark eyes set in most serious faces, peer after us from
the doorways of their rough clay cottages. After a thor-
oughly enjoyable row, we reach the floating gardens.

The ancient accounts say that these islands floated
about the lake as freely as a boat that has shipped its
anchor. That can hardly, in the nature of things, be
true. But whatever the gardens did in the way of
floating long ago, it is certain that to-day they are as
firmly fixed as if they had dry land for their foundation.

Their foundation is in reality marsh land. On every
tuft of land throughout the marsh, earthy matter from
the water has been piled up, and fastencd in place by
means of withes, and long poles which are driven down,
through the mud and water, into the solid ground be-
neath the swamp. Thus numberless little patches of
garden have been made, which are interlaced by a
network of small canals.

The gardens are kept green and fertile by water from
the canals, which is dipped up in long-handled buckets.
They are like a dream of the Thousand Islands of the
St. Lawrence. These islands are as small and green as
those of the North; but here every result is due to the
art of man, while there, everything is the work of
nature.

Such minute and careful gardening as is seen here!
Every square foot is made to do its utmost. The gar-
deners are constantly in their boats, journeying from

178 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

island to island, planting, tending, gathering their crops,
and then taking them down the Viga canal to the city
markets. :

Mexico is one of the best built cities in America.
Perhaps to the newcomer the houses have a sameness
and monotony at first; but the longer he stays, the
better he likes the Mexican style of building.

The square, low houses seem made to last for genera-
tions. The walls of some of the houses are covered with
brightly colored plaster, but most of them are of stone.
On passing through the high-arched door, the court-
yard is entered, with its flowers, fountains, and singing
birds.

A stone staircase leads up to a gallery which runs
around the second story of the house. Both staircase
and gallery are covered and overhung with climbing
vines. The rooms on the second story have glass doors
opening upon the gallery. Both parlors and bedrooms
are often upon this second floor. The lower floor of
the house is used for the stables, kitchen, and servants’
appartments.

The parlor of a Mexican house is large and lofty.
The walls are frescoed, while the ceiling is simply a
piece of cotton cloth, stretched very tightly from wall
to wall and painted as if it were plaster. The floor has
a handsome, thick carpet, and the furniture consists of
the usual covered drawing-room set, consisting of a sofa,
two armchairs, and six smaller chairs.

These are arranged with great exactness about the

sides of the room. The sofa, which is the seat of honor
and is ornamented with two large pillows, is placed at the

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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 179

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upper end of the room. At each end of the sofa stands
an armchair, and the remaining chairs are arranged oppo-
site one another at the sides of the room and closely
pushed against the wall. Americans miss the pictures
and small ornaments which make our houses so attrac-
tive and homelike.

The kitchen is the only room which has a fireplace,
although the evenings and nights are exceedingly cold.
You would hardly recognize the stove when you saw it.
Imagine a square stone platform about four feet high,
running across one end of the kitchen, and having large
circular holes cut at intervals in the upper surface.
This is a Mexican cooking stove, and into those circular
holes the kettles are set.

Sometimes the cooking stove is only a foot or two
high, and circular. When using this, the cook sits on
the floor beside it; but when using the other kind, she
stands.

The cooking utensils are very few and very simple.
A large curving board or stone, on which the corn is
rolled or pounded into meal, is the utensil most needed
by the Mexican cook. Think of a broom being a rare
article! One American woman says that she was
obliged to wait six months before purchasing one.
There were no stores in which one could be bought;
they were to be procured only when the broom peddler
went his irregular rounds. Meanwhile she had to bor-
row of her neighbors.

To look from one’ of the barred windows upon the
street is always interesting. Horse cars drawn by
mules, with dark-skinned drivers lustily blowing their

180 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

are first class; those painted green are second class.

Now and then a cab appears in sight bearing a blue,
r ‘white flag. The blue flag means that it is a first
ela ib, for which one dollar per hour is paid. The
red ilag means a second class cab, which costs seventy-
five cents an hour. The white flag shows the third
class, and costs fifty cents an hour.

Occasionally a train of loaded burros passes slowly
up the street. You would scarcely know donkeys were
there, so completely are they hidden by their loads of
hay and wood.

A water carrier comes along beneath our window.
He is clad almost entirely in leather, and by means of a /
rubber band about the forehead, carries two great water i
jars, one before and one behind. They are so heavy
that if, by any mischance, the leather supporting one of
the jars, should be cut, he would be thrown to the
ground by the weight of the other jar, falling either
backward « forward as the case might be. When both
are in pla‘, they balance each other so perfectly that
the man is neld in an upright position. He makes his
living by selling water from house to house.

Ice is purchased from Indians, who make frequent
pilgrimages for it to the snowy mountains which sur-
round the valley of Mexico. Here are a group of little
children. They are poorly but cleanly dressed in cot-
ton. The little brown arms and legs are bare; for, in
most cases, the sleeves do not reach the elbow, and the
skirts or trousers stop at the knee. Sometimes, how-
ever, long, narrow pantelets are worn, coming down to

|
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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 181

the tiny, brown feet. They chatter, laugh, and appear
to be as wide-awake to all that surrounds them as a
similar group of United States children might be. It
is only as they grow older that the Spanish indifference
is apt to steal over them.

The Mexicans are very courteous and kind to one
another in their homes, and their manner to strangers
is perfect. They cannot be said to be an intemperate
people; for, though the corner drinking shops are seen
throughout the cities and are much frequented, travel-
ers have again and again testified that they have never
seen more than one or two Mexicans intoxicated.

And now, with a parting glance at the curious sight
of a Mexican laborer carrying a piano through the
streets with easy indifference, we must turn away and
prepare for our journey from the city of Mexico into
the hot regions of the country.

CHAPTER XVI.
DOWN INTO THE HOT LANDS.

Do you remember the five classes of Mexican states

. that were spoken of in the chapter called “ A Bird’s-Eye

View of Mexico”? The third class of states were those
around the City of Mexico, which produced maguey.
What is maguey? It is what is known in the United
States as a century plant. To the north, south, east,
and west of the capital are acres and acres, and even

eet

182 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a ee

straight lines of century plants, stretching away in all
directions to the horizon, ‘The plants have leaves grow-
ing with such regularity from the short, strong stems,
that they look as if carved from clear, green marble.
Some of the plants are full-grown, being eight or ten
feet high; others are tiny plants, but two feet tall.

Now close your eyes and see if you can picture a
maguey plantation to yourself. Take the one plant
you have seen here in the United States, and multiply
it hundreds of times, setting out the plants in a straight
line till the farther ones vanish out of sight. Then
place other rows beside the first row, and multiply them
till the farthest of these too disappear. Glance your
eyes over the whole and then you will have an idea of
a Mexican maguey plantation.

The chief use of the maguey is to make pulque, a
mildly intoxicating liquor which is drank as freely in
Mexico as milk is in our country.

The maguey is first set out as a tiny slip. It does
not require much care, but grows quietly along from
year to year, until, at the end of the seventh year, it is
recognized as a full-grown plant, whose value is twelve
dollars.

In the spring, between the closely growing leaves of
the mature plant is seen a large fleshy cone. This con-
tains the flower stalk and flowers. ‘The Mexican planter
cuts it out with his sharp knife, leaving a hollow, shaped
like a bowl, in the heart of the plant. The sap fills this
hollow so quickly that the juice has to be drawn out two
or three times a day. A narrow tube-shaped gourd is

miles and miles of maguey plantations. Think of long,

BRE HiT ident

DiMes cian.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 183

arene
of long, thrust into the hollow, and then by suction the juice is
vy in all drawn up into a pigskin carried on the back of the gar-
a grow- dener. A healthy plant yields from a gallon to a gallon
y stems, and a half a day. . Ls .

marble. The maguey juice before it is fermented is called
tor tet honey water. The pigskins are emptied into vilts lined
tall. with oxen’s hides, the coarse hair being turned inward.
Tatura a After the honey water has remained from ten to four-
ne plant teen days in the vats, it becomes fermented and is
multiply changed to pulque. .
, straight The Mexicans are extremely fond of this drink,
t. Then Ten thousand barrels are consumed daily in the city
ply them of Mexico. — Under these circumstances it is remarka-
nee your ble that an intoxicated person is a very rare sight. rhe
a ddoacot corner pulque shops are closed by law at six every

evening, and at this early hour the drinkers go home to

pulque, a sleep off the ill effects.

freely in | The maguey plant has been said to give health,

‘ | wealth, and happiness to the Mexican people. It is, in

It does fact, as useful to them as the date palm is to the Arab,

long from and the cocoa palm to the South Sea Islander. It is
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food, shelter, and fire.

year, it is se :
: The whole plant is used for fuel. The roots are

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This cote 4 made into troughs into which water is poured to be

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ow, shaped i eut leaves cools the water down to the freezing point.

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The fibre of the maguey leaf is perhaps more useful
than any other part of the plant. It forms a coarse
thread from which cloth, twine, and an excellent rope

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184 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

are made. The rope is braided into large, coarse macs,
which are used in the homes of the poorer Mexicans as
chairs by day and beds at night. These mats are carried
to market, where they can be seen at any time, either
carpeting the rough courtyard strewn with delicious
fruits and vegetables, or upheld by slender poles to
form a shelter for the merchant and his goods. Paper
is also made froin the fibre.

The prickly thorns edging the fleshy leaves make ex-
cellent nails and needles. Sometimes a thorn is torn
off the leaf with a long fibre attached to it. What does
that make? <A needle already threaded, of course.

The sap, by a curious process, is made into pulque, as
we have seen already. Hot pulque is thought to be an
excellent medicine for coughs and lung troubles of all
kinds.

A large white caterpillar often inhabits the plant.
When cooked, the poor Mexican considers him as great
a luxury as the Frenchman does a snail.

About six hours’ journey in a southeasterly direction
from the city of Mexico, is the city of Puebla, which is
next to the capital in size. Many kinds of grain are
‘aised in the neighborhood of Puebla, and the corn cribs
and hayricks are built to represent small churches with
spires and crosses most ingeniously formed.

Puebla is built of granite; but it might have been
built of glittering marble, for near the city are two
great mountains of the beautiful kind of marble called
Mexican onyx. There is enough material in these
marble mountains to have built London, Pekin, Paris,
Vienna, and a hundred more cities of their size.

|
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7 $e Se et RE SEN ST ET TE TT CE ROME TS
OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 185
a
se macs, Much of this marble has been used for the interior
IcAns as decorations of the Puebla cathedral. This is a very
carried beautiful building standing on the southern side of the
+, either principal plaza. The story is, that when the workmen
lelicious | paused in their work on the cathedral at the close of the
oles to day, the angels continued building through the night.
Paper This tradition gives the name of * the city of the angels ”
( to Puebla.
ake ex- Many consider this cathedral more beautiful than the
is torn Mexican cathedral itself. It is built of granite, and has
1at does | a fine dome and a pair of towers.
se. | Within, the subdued light gleams on onyx pillars
Ique, as | richly decorated with gold and gems, and on altars
to be an | decorated with onyx. At the foot of each altar is a
ss of all large glass case in which rests a waxen image of some
saint of the church, richly draped in gorgeous silks
> plant. decorated with emeralds and diamonds. The bones of
as great | martyrs are said to be within the waxen images. Ele-
| gant carvings, fine portraits, and magnificent tapestry
irection | hangings can be seen in various chapels and halls of the
vhich is | cathedral; while on all sides are exquisite onyx decora-
rain are | tions, which, in beauty and richness of coloring, cannot
rn cribs be anywhere surpassed.
ies With Puebla has another name beside the “city of the
| angels.” On account of its numerous manufactories, it
ve been has been compared with one of our important manufac-
ire two turing towns, and called the Lowell of Mexico. Cotton
e called | thread, blankets, tiles, crockery, glass, soap, and matches
n these are all made here. i
1, Paris, : | The city is full of churches, schools, hospitals, and

asylums. It is one of the cleanest cities in the world,

186 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Every day the streets are swept and cleansed in the
most thorough manner.

The streets look very queer to one from more northern
countries. The gutter runs through the centre, and the
street on each side slopes toward it. When one street
enters another, there arises the problem as to how the gut-
ter is to be crossed by foot passengers. For answer, little
bridges are built; but, as these are always in the side
street, the careless traveler is apt to step into the gut-
ter on the main street, forgetting to turn toward the
bridge. In South America we see many streets whose
general plan is like these of Puebla.

About seven miles from Puebla is the pyramid of
Cholula, a relic of the days of the Toltecs. The Toltecs
were Indian tribes that inhabited this region before the
Spaniards settled here. The pyramid looks like an
ordinary hill, covered with the usual growth of shrubs
and grasses, and capped by a small chapel. You would
never think of calling it a pyramid, and yet it is.

Centuries ago, the Toltecs forced the captives they
had taken in war to pile up brick after brick by hand,
until they had made this pyramid, forty-four acres
square at the base, one acre square at the summit, and
about two hundred feet in height. The pyramid was
built in layers; first a layer of sunburned brick, and
then a layer of clay, and so on. The whole was sheathed
in adobe, or clay. Time wore away the covering of
clay; plants crept over the face of the pyramid; a layer
of soil was formed; and soon Cholula became to all
appearances an ordinary hill, studded with trees, cov-
ered with grass, and strewn with flowers.

eines aap i

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 187
et

in the The traveler climbs the winding path to the summit,
and finds a beautiful view awaiting him. Four moun-
orthern tain peaks rise into the blue sky, —Popocatapetl and
mid the Iztaccihuatl in the northwest, Malinche in the north-
» street east, and the voleano of Oriziba in the direct east. The
he gut- view of Popocatapetl and Iztaccihuatl is more satisfac-
1, little tory from Cholula than it is from the City of Mexico.
1e side | The plainest likeness of Iztaccihuatl to a sleeping
he gut- | maiden is seen here. Malinche, or Cortez’s Mountain,
rd the is a dark, grim height on which not a tree, shrub, nor
; whose blade of grass will grow. Oriziba has the cup-shaped
| summit which always denotes the crater of a voleano,

mid of and is covered with snow.
Poltees | All about the base of Cholula, and stretching far
sre the | away, are green fields ot grain, dotted here and there
ike an with villages and church spires. Perhaps it was the
shrubs view from Cholula. that first suggested the idea that it
would | might have been built as a fortress or place of refuge
| for a community of farmers. In time of war, what
s they place in all the country round could be so easily de-

y hand,
> acres
it, and
id was

fended as this single elevation ?

Some wise men hold this opinion; others believe that
the pyramid was erected in honor of the Toltee god of
the air. A little Spanish chapel which, though old, is

ees

k, and kept in perfect repair, is situated on the level space at

eathed the top of the pyramid.

ing of | The railroad trip from Puebla to Vera Cruz is one of

a layer the most remarkable journeys in the world. The great

to all central plateau of Mexico descends very abruptly to the a
S, COV- ' lowlands of the Gulf. Within a very few miles, the

railroad drops from an elevation of five thousand or six

”

188 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o-o—

thousand feet to an elevation of but a few hundred
feet.

In making this descent, two engines are used, one at
the front, the other at the back of the train. The track
winds along the edges of fearful precipices, and crosses
yawning gulleys by means of railroad bridges. And so
the engine seems to climb up and down the faces of the
steepest cliffs, like a fly on a wall,

It makes one giddy to glance from the window; and
yet the wonderful beauty and the terrible danger fas-
cinate the traveler and compel him to look. These
upright walls to which the train is ¢linging desperately
are covered with the most luxuriant growths and the
fairest flowers. Tall rhododendrons almost strangled
by ivy, jungles of ferns, and tangles of morning-glory
blossoms appear.

There are many beautiful plants on all sides that we
have never seen before. Here, is a tall shrub, like a lilac,
with trumpet-shaped white flowers; there, is a clump
of brilliant scarlet flowers lined with a soft pink. And
look, look at the edge of the cliff! Delicate orchids
with bright scarlet blossoms a foot long, are nodding at
us. They are so near that we could almost pluck them,
if the train would only go more slowly. But it speeds
along at its own sweet will, which happens, in this case,
to be a smart pace, and brings us safely down into the
hot, moist air of the lowlands.

There are three regions in Mexico, — the cold region
on the tops of the mountains, the temperate region on
the great central plateau, and the hot region on the
lowlands beside the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific coast.

undred

,one at
ie track
crosses
And so
s of the

w; and
ger fas-

These
perately
and the
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dding at
ck them,
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into the

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1 on the
fic coast.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 189

—-1—

So far, all our journeying has been in the temperate
region. We are now entering the hot region for the
first time.

The air is hot, soft, and damp. A light haze softens
the outlines of the hills, which are cultivated to their
very summits. The sky is generally overcast, and rains
are very frequent. A spicy smell of sandalwood is in
the warm air.

The thermometer, which stood at thirty-two on the
plateau in the morning, registers one hundred and
twenty-five degrees at night.

Through the warmest weather the workman toils
unflaggingly in the fields. The Mexican is not by
nature idle. He only lounges about when he has no
employment. When he has work to do, he labors with
the utmost devotion, never stopping to lift his head or
turn his eyes from the task before him.

The lowlands are rich with large valuable trees, and
beautiful with clustering vines and mosses. Bananas
grow twenty-five feet high. Mango trees are commonly
thirty to forty feet in height, and are covered with wis-
teria. The purple blossoms of the vines mingle prettily
with the glossy leaves of the trees. Pepper trees wave
their feathery foliage, and droop their bright red and
pink blossoms above the canals.

Orchids raise their delicate heads from the branches
of trees. Morning-glories and yellow jasmines in full
bloom festoon the trees and shrubs near them. Ferns
grow tall, as a tall man, and rose trees are twelve feet
high, with stems five inches in diameter.

The huts are frail, slight affairs, suited to the warm

190 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eae |

climate. They are built either of bamboo sticks or of
reeds, and are thatched with palm leaves or cornstalks.
The roofs are cone-shaped in order to shed the rain which
falls so abundantly throughout this region. Before the
cottage door, pigs, turkeys, chickens, and children play
together. Men, women, and children are dressed in
white cotton, and wear wide-brimmed shade hats.

A NATIVE RESIDENCE IN THE HOT COUNTRY.

The country about Vera Cruz is filled with coffee
plantations. The coffee plant is from ten to fifteen feet
tall. It has small, glossy, green leaves like the holly, and
bears a bright red berry resembling the cranberry.

The coffee plant needs plenty of heat, shade, and
moisture. To secure the necessary shade, the young
plants are set out between rows of banana trees.

After the plants are five or six years old, they begin
to bear fruit. The fruit is the size of a cherry. In the
pulp are set two seeds.

! OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 191
ack:

-s or of | The berries are gathered and placed on trays or mats,
nstalks. which are left in the open air for a number of days.
1 which | After that, the seeds are separated by machinery from
ore the | the berry, which has changed from a pulpy mass to a
en play dry pod. The thin, membranous coating of the seeds
ssed_ in is next removed, and then the coffee is ready for market.

Some coffee is superior to other coffee of the same kind,
on account of a more fragrant aroma. This is because
it has received more careful sorting and drying. If the
Mexicans were more particular in their preparation of
the coffee bean, the Mexican coffee would be inferior to
none in the world.

At last we have reached Vera Cruz, where our jour-
ney ends. This city is situated on the sandy shores of
the Gulf of Mexico, among marshes and fever swamps.
It has the name of having more horrible odors than

| any other city in Mexico, and that is saying much.
| Also, it is said to be the stronghold of the yellow fever

we
|
H

(i
veil

and other kindred tropical diseases.

| Notwithstanding all these disadvantages, many trav-

| elers enjoy Vera Cruz, and spend the summer months
- coffee there for the sea bathing. The summer is the time of
en feet year when “ Yellow Jack,” as the yellow fever is called,
lly, and | is least prevalent.
r, | The city is very much like other cities of Mexico in
le, and | its general plan and style of architecture. The houses
young | have flat roofs, with courtyards and stuccoed walls.

The cathedral on the central plaza is haunted by vul-

y begin tures. Because they act as city scavengers, they are i
In the ; protected by law. It is a curious sight to see them

perched on a lofty tower of the cathedral, with their

192 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

shadowy forms outlined against the faintly tinted sky
of the tropical night. Their hoarse croak, as it is borne
on the evening breeze across the plaza, has a ghostly
sound,

The Gulf of Mexico is a beautiful sight in the even-
ing, especially when lighted by a full moon, ‘The
waves rolling towards the shore look like molten silver,

THE CITY OF VERA CRUZ.

and every sailing vessel and little boat gleams with a
new and marvelous radiance.

The best view of Vera Cruz is obtained while enter-
ing its wretched little harbor. The city looks very long
and lew as it stretches along the shore. It has almost
a flattened appearance, as if some mighty force had
pressed it downward into the sand. Much of the
stucco work of the houses is vf a bright pink color,

|
|

“a

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 193

and this looks very picturesque against the yellow sand

ed sky cliffs back of Vera Cruz. The effeet of the pink and

s borne

shostly yellow vity spanned by the cloudless blue sky is daz-
: aling. ‘The eye aches after looking awhile at the glir-
Beyer ing tropical colors.

The There are numerous delightful places that we might
silver, visit in Mexico. There are the tobacco and cotton

plantations to the east and south; there is the town of
Guadalajara, where they make pottery and feather work ;
and, lastly and most curious of all, there is that queer,
unknown region of Yucatan where are strange, elaborate
buildings, built by an ancient people of whose language
and customs we know almost nothing.

Central America is a kindred country to Mexico, and
there we shall doubtless find many customs and sights
that will pleasantly remind us of our stay in Mexico.

with a

P enter-
ry long
almost
ce had
of the
; color,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGIBORS.

CENTRAL AMERICA,

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

(
t

<a esa coemrmerts pienso

“S001 ANVDOHVW

OUR AMERICAN NEIGIBORS.

CENTRAL AMERICA.

CHAPTER XVII.
THE TINY REPUBLICS OF NORTH AMERICA.

Southeast of Mexico, and occupying the narrowest
portion of North America, are five small republics, —
Guatemala, Honduras, San Salvador, Nicaragua, and
Costa Rica. These, with the English colony of British
Honduras, form what is known as Central America.

With the single exception of San Salvador, each of

er es

the republics stretches from ocean to ocean. Each has
therefore two coasts, one bordering on the Atlantic and
the other on the Pacific. On neither coast are there
remarkably good harbors.

The Atlantic shore is low and sandy. One might
expect to find harbors at the mouths of the rivers. But
the rivers, flowing through sandy districts, usually
form deltas; and their mouths, one by one, become
choked with sand bars. One of the few harbors on the
Atlantic seaboard is at Greytown, at tle mouth of the i
San Juan River.

The Pacific coast of Central America, like the Pacific
197

se tte

4 sation

4
|
@
i
a
|

198 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

coast of Mexico, is bold and rocky. There are no good
harbors, but only a few sheltered bays ; and even these
are unlike the many deep, sheltered havens on our own
Pacific coast.

The greater part of the surface of Central America
consists of table-iand crossed, in many directions, by
‘anges of mountains. This is one of the chief volcanic
regions on the earth. Active volcanoes are found in
all the republics, but they are particularly numerous in
Nicaragua. Most of the western third of this state
consists of a deep depression, which is filled by Lakes
Managua and Nicaragua, and is of volcanic forma-
tion. Volcanoes lift their cone-shaped heights along
the shores and from the centres of these lakes, while
plains of ashes, lava, and pumice lie at the feet of the
mountains.

The rivers may be divided into two classes, — those
of the Atlantic and those of the Pacific slope. The
first class are long and sluggish, often seeming to lose
themselves in the sand. The second class are short and
rapid. The two most important rivers are the Segovia
and the San Juan. Both of these rivers work their
way through the jungles of a genuine tropical forest.

In climate, productions, and people, Central America
closely resembles Mexico. The two countries are own
cousins. Both were inhabited by Indians and settled
by Spaniards; and the similarity of the climate and
soil have produced much the same results in the charac-
ter of the cities and the customs of the people.

We are now approaching the Pacific coast of Guate-
mala. The ship which carries us anchors presently

4
i

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 199 ’
a
0 good about two miles from the shore. The coast consists
1 these of high bluffs, with a very narrow strip of sand at
ur own their base. The shore shelves so gradually that no
ships dare approach within two miles of the land for

merica | fear of getting aground.
ons, by The cargo and the passengers have to be taken
olecanic ashore in large boats called lighters. The sea has many
und in cross currents and eddies, and the lighter often drifts
rous in from its course; but at last it reaches the base of a
s state huge iron pier in safety. We strain our necks back-
’ Lakes ward, and gaze at the top of the lofty pier. How are
forma- we ever to ascend it ?
; along For answer, an iron cage is swung over the side of
3, while ] the pier and descends into the boat. We enter with
of the the other passengers. The signal is given; the cage

gives a tremendous lurch ; every one shuts his eyes and
~ those clings with all his might to the bars of the cage. A
. The few more terrible bumps, and then, to the great relief
to lose of all, the cage lands safely on the wharf. We are
ort and fairly in Guatemala.
Segovia ; The pier is crowded with boxes and barrels of mer-
k their chandise, which have been brought by tramway from
rest. | the city out to the far edge of the pier for exporta-
\merica tion. Horses and cattle are also waiting here to be
re own : exported.
settled A derrick worked by a small steam engine is the
ite and | means by which the loading is accomplished. The boxes
charac- : and barrels are slung into a large bag made of rope, and |

are lowered into the boat. The oxen have a network of i

Guate- ropes fastened to their horns. It is a strange sight to
‘esently see a kicking, struggling steer, swinging loose from the

i
i
i

200 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

side of the pier into the air. Horses are lowered more
carefully in a kind of leather belt, which is fastened
about the body. ;

The city of Guatemala is situated on the table-land
some fifty miles from the coast. There are very few
railroads in Central America, and, as many of the roads
are narrow and poor, much of the journeying is on don-
keys. The road to Guatemala is a fairly good one,
however, and is generally traversed by stage. The
stage is drawn by two mules and five burros.

The time o! our trip is in the rainy season, and the
roads are exceedingly muddy. Frequently the stage
sticks in the mud and comes to a sudden standstill, to
the extreme annoyance of both driver and mules. In
the dry season the traveler is choked with dust.

Often we pause while a train of carts, coming down
from the interior, passes by. These trains of ox carts
are sometimes three-quarters of a mile long. The cart
is made of very solid and heavy timbers. The wheels
are rough sections of the trunks of mahogany trees,
which are shaped by the ax to as perfect a circle as
possible. They are five feet in diameter and seven or
eight inches thick.

The oxen wear no yoke, but have the tongue of the
cart fastened by str.ps to their horns. The drivers are
dressed in cotton shits and trousers. The shirts com-
plete their dress suits. They put them on as they ap-
proach a town, but in the open country they wear simply
the trousers.

Sending goods in this way is slow but safe. It is
slow, because the drivers will not start on their journey

REA eSATA NaN I

La Aisa

Mee coi

i! TEA RIE

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 201
ea anane after a night’s rest until all are ready. Tf one meets

fastened with an accident, the others wait until he is able to go
on again. It is safe, because the drivers are exceedingly
trustworthy. They always account for every ounce or
pint that is intrusted to their care.

There is a planter who receives thirty thousand silver

‘on don: coins over the road every week during the coffee season.
vod one, He says it is safer than if he carried it himself.
‘6. The There have been, in all, three cities of Guatemala.
The first was destroyed by flood, and the second, La
Antigua Guatemala, by earthquake.

This was one of the first cities on this continent

able-land
very few
the roads

SRE SLT OCEAN Res

,and the
he stage

La Aisa ee

\dstill, to ; two hundred years ago. When Boston and New York
ules. In were small villages, La Antigua Guatemala was the
| seat of many schools and colleges. It was only sur-
ae down passed in riches and prosperity by two American cities,
ox carts 4 Mexico, and Lima in Peru.

The cart j The plains about Guatemala were once given up to
1e wheels the culture of cochineal. The cochineal is a tiny insect

which feeds on a kind of cactus, called nopal. Just be-
fore the rainy season begins, the leaves of the nopal are
cut close to the ground, and are hung up under a shed
for protection from the rain. The insects are brushed
off the nopal leaves with a dull knife, and are killed
either by boiling or by baking.

Crimson dyes are obtained by boiling; blue and pur-

ny trees,
circle as
seven or

11! TE SESS

1e of the
rivers are
irts com-

Lecithin casita taianiiennsrann

they ap- ple dyes by beking.. The insects, when dried, look like

ar simply @ coarse powder. Though the culture of cochineal was }
once a chief industry of the state of Guatemala, of late |

fe. It is years the cheaper aniline dyes have driven the cochi-

r journey neal out of the market.

202 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The modern city of Guatemala is situated on a wide
table-land. It is laid out with much regularity, and, as
the houses are low, with central courtyards, it stretches
over considerable space. Each street is paved, and
slopes towards a gutter running through the centre.
On each side is a broad sidewalk of flagstones. All the
streets are very clean.

Fine aqueducts, built by the old Spaniards, keep the
fountains supplied with water from the neighboring
hills. In many of the Central American cities there
are public laundries, where women and girls may be
seen at all hours of the day washing clothes and chat-
ting happily together.

Guatemala has the usual plaza, with a fine cathedral
forming one side of the square. Here the band plays
and the people promenade on Sundays, just as in Mex-
ico, although Sunday is kept more strictly as a day of
rest in Guatemala.

The stores might almost be called variety stores, on
account of the many kinds of merchandise that they
contain. At the same place one can buy almost every
article of clothing and of food. Dry goods, hardware,
glassware, canned goods, boots and shoes, all are to be
obtained in one of these little corner shops.

The shopkeeper arrives at about eight in the morn-
ing. He opens the shop and takes down the shutters,
which signifies that he is ready for trade. Toward the
close of the rainy season, the rain comes in the daytime
from eleven to one. Promptly at eleven, the shopman
closes his store and goes home for a noonday nap. At
one he returns, and the shop is open until four.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 203

e
Guatemala and San Salvador are the most prosperous
states of Central America. The presidents have intro-

on a wide
y, and, as

stretches duced many modern improvements into the city of
wed, and Guatemala, and, as the people still cling to many of the
e centre. old customs, the new and the old ways are often closely
All the contrasted. The telegraph aud the telephone, the swift
messengers of thought, pass through the same street as
keep the the laden Indian peasants, whose race has been used
ighboring as beasts of burden for hundreds of years.
ties there The Indian carries his load on his back in a pannier, :
s may be which is held in place by a leather strap passing around
and chat- i his head. The Indian woman carries her load on her

head. Some shrewd business men, in buying hay or
wood, always purchase a man’s load rather than a don-
key’s load. They usually find that they receive more by
so doing.

Besides carrying a heavier load than a donkey or
mule, the peasant accomplishes his journey in less time.
He becomes so accustomed to walking under a heavy
weight that, on returning home after having delivered
his goods in the city, he often places a stone of some
hundred pounds or so in his pannier, and trots off as
briskly as if he felt no weight at all.

The peasant woman comes to market carrying one
hundred pounds of vegetables or fruits upon her head,
anda baby slung in a reboza upon her hip. Several
children, varying from six to a dozen years of age,
accompany her, carrying, as a matter of course, weights

cathedral
nd plays
sin Mex-
a day of

stores, on
that they
ost. every
1ardware,
wre to be

he morn-
shutters,
ward the
daytime

under.
Honduras is the largest of the Central American

nap. At

\
\
shopman which a citizen of our own country would stagger

204 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

—+-o0

States, but it is the most thinly settled. Tt has a popu-
lation one third that of Guatemala. The state is rich
in gold aud silver mines, and has a greater variety of
medicinal plants than any other country in the world.

Why is it then that Honduras is a poor, bankrupt
state? Simply because the people have not the energy
to build roads.

There are only a few miles of carriage road in the
country. All the goods which are brought into the
interior are carried on the backs of mules or Indians.
Carriages are unknown. They are classed with over-
coats and chimneys as unnecessary articles.

There was a plan made once to build a railroad
through a natural valley in western Honduras which
two rivers had formed, one running north from Comaya-
gua, and the other south. Work was begun on the line,
but it soon ceased for want of funds. ,

The people of Central America lack business exact-
ness. Rich men from abroad lend the country money
to build a certain railroad. They begin to build with
the best intentions in the world, when suddenly all their
plans are changed. There arises a quarrel with a neigh-
boring state or a revolution within their own borders,
and the loaned money is taken to pay the expenses of
the war.

Such measures, frequently repeated, have caused
business men both in Europe and in America to distrust
Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica, and to regard
business investments in those countries as unsafe. If
the inhabitants would only build roads, so that machin-
ery could be brought into the interior, the valuable mines

aT ant et A

{
4
;
;

laws @ popu-
ate is rich
variety of
ie world.

, bankrupt
the energy

mud in the
, into the
r Indians.
with over-

a railroad
ras which
n Comaya-
n the line,

less exact-
try money
puild with
ly all their
th a neigh-
n borders,
xpenses of

ve caused
to distrust
to regard
insafe. If
ut. machin-
able mines

a a cr TIT ET IT I RTT a ET eID
OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 205
| ee
might be opened up and the country would prosper.
But as none are built, industry is at a standstill.
Comayagua is the capital of Honduras, and is reached
by a twelve days’ ride over thy mountains on mules.

|
| Tegucigalpa is the largest and most prosperous city.
; . : var

It always has a bright and cheerful appearance, ‘This
] is because the houses are painted white, green, pink,

and red. Grass grows in the streets; and, although
every street has a gutter through which water might
pass to all the houses of the city, they are always empty,
and the water is brought in jars from the valley one
hundred feet below.

San Salvador, although the smallest of the states, is

the most prosperous and the most thickly settled. The
people of San Salvador are very industrious. They
would be rich, if it were not for frequent outbreaks
( from the volcanoes.
{ Most of San Salvador is a plateau, two thousand feet
i high, with volcanoes scattered over it in clumps. Many
of them are active, and fields of lava, ashes, and pumice
stone are usual sights in the republic.

The city of San Salvador is surrounded by yoleanoes
on all sides but the south. There is one volcano’ ~ ch
casts out smoke and fire every seven minutes. It has
done so for over one hundred and twenty years, in fact
ever since it appeared.

There was once a flourishing plantation where this vol-
cano now stands. The owner had been away for a few
months, and on his return he found, to his amazement,
that he was the owner of a great volcano. His planta-
tion had entirely disappeared. His servants told him a

206 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

marvellous story of the strange rumblings and quak-
ings they had heard and felt; of the falling down of
the farm buildings; of the flight of many of the ser-
vants ; and, lastly, of the wonderful rise, which the
bravest of them had witnessed, of an active voleano four
thousand feet high. The sailors call this voleano the
“ Lighthouse of Salvador,” for always, by night and by
day, volumes of smoke and flame are pouring from the
mountain.

Throughout San Salvador the buildings are low and
unornamented. ‘This is because they are frequently
destroyed by earthquakes or other volcanic disturbances.
The capital, San Salvador, has been rebuilt several times
within the last few hundred years. With volcanoes
popping up at a moment’s notice in the centre of lakes
or coffee plantations, the inhabitants do not have that
irust in the permanency of their labor, which would
lead them to spend large sums on the decorations of
churches and other public buildings.

San Salvador is the only country in the world that
produces balsam. The balsam trees grow along the
northern part of the coast, which is called, in conse-
quence, the balsam coast. Balsam is a kind of resin,
which is used in making perfumery and some medicines.

Other exports are coffee, indigo, tobacco, sarsaparilla,
india rubber, and sugar. The indigo of San Salvador
yields a more delicate dye than that raised in Guate-
mala or in Bengal. It is therefore the finest in the
world.

For the last sixty years Nicaragua has been going
backward in wealth and population. Its commerce was

|
;

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 207

and quak-
g down of

greater at the beginning of the century than it is now
at its close. And yet the country itself is naturally

of the ser-
which the
oleano four
‘oleano the
tht and by
x from the

re low and
frequently
sturbances.
veral times

volcanoes
re of lakes
have that
‘ich would
rations of

world that
along the
, in conse-
1 of resin,

very rich,

If the country is divided
into three nearly equal
parts, each part will have
a fairly distinct character
of its own. The western
third of the state is very
fertile; the central third
consists of fine grazing
land; and the castern
third contains large for-
ests in which grow large
numbers of valuable ma-
hogany and caoutchoue
trees. The reason the
western part of the state
is so fertile is because the
upper soil is made up of
voleanic products, inelud-
ing potash.

Eighteen volcanoes

medicines. stand about Lakes Ma-
wsaparilla, nagua and Nicaragua, and

1 Salvador
in Guate-
est in the

een going
merce was

uae

ie aot at etn 4

several more rise from the
centre of Lake Nicaragua.
This is one of the fiercest
volcanic regions in the
whole earth.

In 1885, the eruption

THE WATER CARRIER.

208 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a ae

of Coseguina, a voleano in the northwest, was one of
the most remarkable the world has ever seen. — For
four days clouds of lava and ashes were cast from the
voleano upon all the country round. Showers of ashes
fell in Bogota, fifteen hundred miles away, in the West
Inilies, and in Mexico. The sea for one hundred and
fifty miles from the coast of Nicaragua was covered with
ashes; and ashes and stones fell upon the decks of ves-
sels far out at sea. Smoke darkened the light of the
sun in the neighboring states ; and as for the poor Nica-
raguans, they believed that the end of the world had
come.

On the anniversary of its last eruption, the priests
ascend to the summit of cach volcano and pour holy
water into its crater, This is called baptizing the vol-
cano, and it is believed that this prevents eruptions
from it. .

The only highway in the county is one running from
Granada on Lake Nicaragua through Managua, the
present capital, to the chief seaport, Corinto. Along
the road are small crosses, which mark the spot where
some one is buried who was slain on the highway. It
is true that, through revolutions and private quarrels,
more blood has been shed in Nicaragua than in any
other state of the same size in the world.

Over this road the ox carts journey. The noise of
the men calling to their oxen and the sound of the
wheels, which are never oiled, are so loud that they are
heard fully half an hour before they appear in sight.
Horsemen riding steeds as spirited and graceful as Ara-
bian horses, pass at an easy pace; and the ever patient

was one of
seen. For
st from the
rs of ashes
n the West
indred and
overed with
cks of Ves-
ight of the
poor Niea-
world had

the priests
pour holy
ig the vol-
$ eruptions

nning from
nagua, the
to. Along
spot where
ghway. It
e quarrels,
han in any

he noise of
ind of the
at they are
rv in sight.
ful as Ara-
ver patient

ere nee

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 20%)

——o-o—

Indian trots swiftly along with his enormous load, on
the way to Managua,

This city has only of late years had the honor of
being the capital. Lake Managua, with its beautiful
shores surrounded by volcanoes, is east of the city, and
coffee plantations are laid out on the hills to the west.

A large part of the standing army of the state is
quartered in Nicaragua. There are three officers to
every ten privates. The privates are all Indians. The
uniform consists of a suit of white cotton drilling and a
blue cap. One suit in every ten has stamped upon the
back of the coat or trousers these words, in large, black
lettering, —* Best Cotton Drilling XXXX Mills.” The
natives think this is a great ornament, and quarrel
among themselves as to which is to wear the uniform
thus decorated.

The eastern sections of Honduras, Nicaragua, and
Costa Rica are covered with a dense tropical forest.
Giant trees grow straight as a dart to a height of eighty
feet. Rank after rank, file after file, they stretch away
into the distance, their thick, matted foliage darkening
the ground below.

One can neither see nor feel the ground for the dense
undergrowth. Down here in the darkness there is a
vigorous growth of strong, stout shrubs and _ plants.
Here and there a pale vine reaches its slender climbers
upward, lays hol of some low branch, and climbs in
time above the mois‘ darkness to the glad sunlight.

Many of the great trees are girdled by parasitic vines
which, beginning in weakness to draw their life from
the tree, have grown to such might that all the sap

210 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—~-t1o—

which the faithful roots draw in for the nourishnent of
the tree, goes to feed them. And at last the patriarch
of the forest dies, chcked in their embrace. It is like
the story of the chilled viper «nd the man. Even then
the tree does not fall. It cannot. The surrounding
trees are packed about it so thickly that it must still
remain in its place.

Delicate air plants and orchids blossom on the lofty
branches. Beautiful butterflies, with pale blue wings
nine inches across, flit like flying blossoms through the
wood. Gorgeous parrots scream harshly in the dis-
tance, and nimble monkeys scamper up the trees and
then sit chattering and making mouths at one another.

There are dangers in this forest. Poisonous plants
and stinging bushes close round on every hand. Flies,
fleas, mosquitoes, scorpions, and centipedes are always
ready to do their worst. The ground grows soft under
foot. A swamp is near, where horrible snakes coil their
slimy lengths in many an ugly fold. We have pene-
trated at last to the home oi the mahogany tree.

The mahogany is one of the few trees in Central
America whose foliage varies with the seasons. It is
by this changing foliage that the Indian, from the top
of some lofty tree, spies it out, and, with unerring judg-
ment, leads the wood cutter straight toward it.

The underbrush is cleared away, the vines and lower
branches are cut off; and then, after several hours of
severe labor, the great mahogany comes crashing down.
It is often seventy feet tall, and from eight to ten feet
in diameter.

The log is squared with the ax, and then dragged

|
|

rishmient of
e patriarch

It is like
Even then
urrounding
/ must still

m. the lofty
blue wings
hrough the
in the dis-
» trees and
ne another.
ous plants
nd. Flies,
are always
soft under
2s coil their
have pene-
ree.

in Central
ons. It is
ym the top
rring judg-
it.

; and lower
il hours of
hing down.
to ten feet

on dragged

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 211

——to—

by oxen to the nearest river. There it is left to float,
until the river in the rainy season rises and bears it
down to more civilized regions by the sea.

The caoutchouce, or india rubber tree, also grows in
these forests. In the spring time, when the sa) is rising
in the trees, expeditions are organized in Graytown and
sent up the San Juan River to the india rubber regions.
An expedition consists of from thirty to forty men,
many of whom are forced to go on the trip because they
are in debt to the rubber merchants who furnish them
with their boat and provisions. They are commanded
by a patron, or, as Yankee boys would say, a boss.

Each man carries a blanket, a small pillow, several
pairs of sandals, and a great knife about three and a
half feet long. The blade, which is from two and a
half to three feet long, has a broad, heavy point resem-
bling that of a butcher knife. This is a very formidable
weapon, and, when armed with it, the rubber hunter
feels safe, no matter how many snakes and wild animals
he may encounter in the jungle.

The provisions consist of strips of beef, which are
sold by the yard, barrels of flour, bags of beans and rice,
bunches of plantains, lumps of chocolate, and brown
sugar. The rubber hunter carries a gun and line; and,
as the woods are full of small game and the rivers
abound with fish, he always has a variety for his table.

When they arrive at their destinatior, the men pro-
ceed to build a camp by driving four forked stakes into
the ground, and’ making a roof thatched with palm

leaves. The camp is open on all four sides, and mos-

quitoes throng about at night. But the rubber hunter

212 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o

protects himself against their venomous bite by relling
himself in his blanket. A rude fireplace is next set
up. Having made these simple arrangements for his
comfort, the rubber hunter is ready for work.

His dress is very simple. It consists of a pair of
coarse cotton trousers rolled to the knee, a hana-
kerchief knotted about his head, and leather sandals.
Armed with his trusty knife, and carrying his bucket,
he starts off on a three or four mile tramp to visit some
tree whose position he has marked before. He cuts his
way through the underbrush with the knife, all the way
keeping a bright lookout ahead for snakes and other foes.

Arrived at the caoutchoue tree, he first strips it of
clinging vines. ‘Then, climbing ti the lower branches,
he slowly descends, making deep cuts into the tree, now
on the right hand, now on the left. Each cut meets
unother at an obtuse angle, so that there is a connected
series of troughs from the branches to the base of the
tree. Into the lowest cleft the rubber hunter fits a bit
of split cane, which serves the purpose of a small pipe
to conduct the sap into the bucket placed at the foot of
the tree.

The sap is now running into the bucket at the rate
of four gallons an hour. A full-grown rubber tree
holds about twenty gallons of sap, and will run dry in
one day. The rabber hunter, having tapped about a
dozen trees in the same neighborhood, has all he can
do to run about emptying the buckets into large cans
holding ten gallons each.

The cans are taken to camp, and the sap is strained
into barrels. In Brazil the sap is hardened into rubber

RLS EERE Wil Fe ae RS

a Sc AMR RT AEA Ne nce BLES tiene oven ttCametsinhte Anew cra a a hance a tite

by rolling
s next set
its for his

a pair of
, wv hand-
ar sandals,
iis bucket,
visit some
Te cuts his
ll the way
other foes.
trips it of
- branches,
» tree, NOW
cut meets
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ase of the
r fits a bit
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t the rate
ibber_ tree
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all he can
large cans

is strained
nto rubber

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 218

+--+

by boiling it; in Central America the natives mingle
the juice of a certain vine with the sap, which causes it
to become hardened in a comparatively few hours. At
first the rubber is white; but with exposure to the air
it turns black, and takes the appearance with which we
are familiar.

After two months the men return to the city, and
receive the portion of their wages which is not withheld
to pay their former debts to their employers. Then
follows a time of extravagance and pleasure-seeking.
They spend all they have earned, and as much more ag
their employers will lend them. At last, when they
can borrow no more, they are driven through sheer neces-
sity to undertake a fresh expedition up the San Juan.

Most of these rubber hunters are never out of debt.
They are exactly like the majority of Central Ameri-
cans. Each rank is continually in debt to the one above
it. The peasant is in debt to the planter, the planter
to the merchant, and so on. The stores and even the
railroads are run on the credit system.

The people make a fatal error in never coing to-day
what they can defer till to-morrow. The national vice
of all these republics is indolence. Mufana, which
means some other time, is the word on every one’s lips.
“ The Costa Rican is always lying under the mafana
tree” is a well-known proverb in these regions. It
would be just as true a saying, if the word Nicaraguan,
or native of Honduras, were substituted for the Costa
Rican. That is what has made the people poor and the
nations bankrupt.

Costa Rica is the Spanish for rich coast. The name

914 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

indicates what the Spaniards hoped the country would
become. The coffee country is another name given to
Costa Rica with more, appropriateness, as coffee is the
chief article of export.

The principal cities are Port Limon on the Atlantic
coast, and San José, the capital. Port Limon is a small
city of wooden and bamboo huts, bordered on three
sides by forests, and looking out on the blue sea upon
its fourth side. At noon it seems indeed a sleepy
little place. Breadfruit trees and palms wave their
great leaves dreamily ; and the buzz of many insects
and the wash of the level waves is very soothing.

But at morning and at evening Port Limon awakens
into busy life. Here the outgoing ships are laden with
coffee and bananas. A tramway runs from the wharves
to the warehouses in the city and thence to the neigh-
boring banana plantations. And, as a crowning proof of
progress, Port Limon has a railroad into the interior,
seventy miles long.

The coffee accumulates in the city warehouses; but
the bananas must be picked at the very last minute pos-
sible. Just before a vessel is to sail, word is sent to the
neighboring plantations; the huge, half green bunches
are picked hurriedly ; and, with the dew still upon them,
are sent by tramway to the wharves.

There they are packed in the New York, New Or-
leans, or Liverpool steamers. Often there are six mil-
lion bananas aboard a single steamer, but they are apt
to spoil so quickly that only half the cargo reaches
its destination in perfect condition.

San José is a pleasant little town among the high-

std

TRCN aE A

ee Te ene ae

|
|
|

ntry would
e given to
ffee is the

e Atlantic
1 is a small
| on three
> sea upon
1 a sleepy
wave their
ny insects
ling.

n awakens
laden with
he wharves
the neigh-
ng proof of
he interior,

ouses; but
minute pos-
sent to the
en bunches
upon them,

:, New Or-
re six mil-
ney are apt
go reaches

+ the high-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 215

lands, with a ring of eight volcanoes about it. The
houses of adobe are built only one story high in order
to withstand slight earthquakes.

The people, like all the Central Americans, are ex-
tremely polite and courteous. The higher classes are
well educated, and the peasants have a grace and sweet-
ness of salutation that is remarkable. “ May Heaven
smile upon your errand,” “ May your patron saint pro-

AN ADOBE HOUSE.

tect you,” are some of their pretty greetings to stran-

gers on the road. If a lady is with the party, the hat
is removed immediately.

So you see that, as every one has some redeeming
feature, there are even good traits about those intoler-
ably idle people, the natives of Costa Rica.

a is

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

SOUTH AMERICA.

218 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Dee en on re ee

4
|
j
d
;
1

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

SOUTH AMERICA.

CHAPTER XVIII
A BIRD’S-EYE VlisW OF SOUTH AMERICA.

To become acquainted with the last of our American
neighbors we must leave our own continent of North
America and enter another, the continent of South
America. This is our most distant neighbor, yet still it
is our neighbor; for the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans,
which separate us from the Eastern world, separate
South America also from the East; and the two conti-
nents, North America and South America, clasp hands
at the Isthmus.

Although South America was discovered and colo-
nized at the same time as North America, there is not
so much of it settled. Two-thirds of it lie within the
torrid zone, and the hot climate causes such intense lazi-
ness in the people that miles upon miles of the continent
have never been explored. Within the tropics the nec-
essary fruits and vegetables grow with so little culti-
vation, that man can lead a life of perfect idleness.
This bounteousness of nature, in the way of climate and
food, is consequently not really a blessing.

219

22 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

South America is a great triangle. Its base lies
toward the north, while its apex, Cape Horn, is
toward ti, south. It is one of the smallest of the
grand divisions, being smaller than North America and
larger than Europe.

It resembles North America in having a great moun-
tain system on the west, a smaller one on the east, and a
large plain lying between them. The central plain has
two slopes, a northern and a southern. The northern
slope is drained by the Amazon and the Orinoco, and
the southern slope by the La Plata. These are three
of the greatest rivers on the face of the globe. Their
branches reach into the remotest parts of the continent,
and serve as highways where it would be impossible to
build roads.

South America may be divided into six important
regions. ‘Two of these regions extend from north to
south, and the other four extend from west to east.
Beginning with the western coast, we find, first, the
lowlands of the coast, and, secondly, the mountain
region.

The lowlands of the coast vary in width from thirty
to a few hundred miles. The central part of the coast
is barren, but the northern and the southern parts are
quite fertile.

Then come the mountain plateaus from which the
mountain chains of the Andes rise. The Andes form
one of the longest and grandest mountain systems in
the world. They consist of many ranges, which some-
times run parallel, and sometimes cross one another and
branch off to the right and left. There are clusters of

ee eee

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reat moun-
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‘
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OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 221

mountain peaks where the chains cross. Between the
various ranges are lofty valleys, which offer fine sites
for towns. Single mountain peaks, covered with snow,
rise to heights of from twenty thousand to twenty-four
thousand feet. Many of these mountains are volcanoes,
and earthquakes are quite common near the Andes.

From the Andes, chains branch off and ran towards
the east, defining the other regions. ‘The Parima Cor-
dilleras, or Parima Mountains, are one of these branches.
They separate the valley of the Orinoco from the valley
of the Amazon.

The third region of South America is the Hanos, or
plains of the Orinoco. These are plains which are
covered with grass and dotted here and there with
clumps of trees. In the dry season, the sun bakes the
earth so that seams open, and lizards and salamanders
are seen basking in the warm crevices.

The fourth region consists of the forest plains, or
selvas, of the Amazon. These are vast tropical forests,
teeming with vegetable and animal life. Many large
and fierce animals, and a few tribes of savages, find their
homes within these forests.

The fifth region consists of the treeless plains, or
pampas, of the La Plata. The country is covered with
coarse grass and weeds. Thistles abound, and herds of
wild cattle and horses find pasturage there.

The sixth and last region consists of the series of
hills and valleys that roll away to the eastward through
Brazil. The mountains are known as the Brazilian
Mountains, and there is no sign of a voleano among
them. The valleys and mountains toward the east are

222 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

wooded. ‘Toward the west they give way to open
plains, which become quite barren as the centre of the
continent is reached.

With this general .idea of the surface of the country,
let us visit the individual states of South America,
and observe the people in their homes and on the
street. Let us notice how they dress, what they eat,
what they say, and the cities they have built for them-
selves; in short, let us become so well acquainted,
that, through our growing interest in them, we may be
neighbors indeed.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE GREAT REPUBLIC OF THE SOUTH.

South of the equator lies a country nearly as large as
the United States, and quite as rich in mineral, vege-
table, and animal wealth, This country is Brazil.

Within a few years the rovernment has been changed
from a monarchy to a repu.uc. Its model is the Great
Republic of the North, as the natives of South America
cull our own country. Its ambition is to be to South
America what the United States is to North America.

Brazil may be divided into three regions. The first
region extends from the northern boundary of Brazil to
the tenth parallel of latitude, and comprises the selvas,
or the region of greatest vegetable wealth. The second
region extends from the tenth to the twentieth parallel
of latitude, and comprises the gold and diamond mines,

]

ay to open
‘entre of the

the country,
th America,
and on the
at they eat,
lt for them-
acquainted,
, we may be

TH.

y as large as
neral, vege-
Brazil.
pen changed
is the Great
ith America
be to South
America.
The first
of Brazil to
; the selvas,
The second
eth parallel
ond mines,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 228
—-oo—

or the region of greatest mineral wealth. The third
region lies between the twentieth and thirtieth parallels,
and is the cattle-raising region of the country. The
first of these regions is low land, the other two are
high land.

The first region comprises the northern half of the
country of Brazil. Through it flows the Amazon River,
the largest, though not the longest, river in the world.
With its tributaries, it drains one-third of the continent
of South America.

The head stream of the Amazon rises at the base of
the Andes, only sixty miles from the Pacific Ocean.
The river nearly divides the continent, and forms a
wonderful water highway to the remotest spot in the
centre of South America.

The Amazon is about four thousand miles in length.
It has eight tributaries, each one thousand miles long ;
and it affords, with its branches, fifty thousand miles of
water navigable for sailing vessels, and twenty-five
thousand miles that are open to steamboats. The width
of the Amazon in the lower part of its course is from
two to ten miles. Jis average depth is one hundred
and fifty feet. It is over three hundred feet deep at its
mouth.

Part of the Amazon Valley is covered with forests.
The name selvas is applied to this wooded section of
the Amazon Valley, which is fifteen hundred miles long
and one thousand miles broad.

But these figures mean little. If you could only be
transported to the very centre of the encircling forest,
and stand on the shore of the mighty river, and gaze

224 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o—

and think until, in some little measure, you might begin
dimly to comprehend its greatness and its might!

You have stood on the seashore and looked off across
the waters in the direction where they appear to be
unbounded by land. You have the same wide view
from the bank of the Amazon, only the waters rolling
by are of a yellowish color instead of the blue of the
sea. Shade your eyes with your hand. What is that
dim line on the very edge of the horizon? Perhaps it
is the further shore of the river. No, indeed, it is but
an island in the middle of the stream. The river reaches
as far beyond your sight as that island is distant from
you now. The width of the Amazon at this spot is
twice as far as the eye can see.

This mighty inland sea extends a thousand miles
westward to the base of the Andes, and a thousand miles
eastward to where it flows into the Atlantic Ocean.
All about you is the wonderful tropical forest, reaching
seven hundred miles to the north and seven hundred
miles to the south, five hundred miles easterly and five
hundred miles westerly.

There are forests in Central America, but they are
nothing when compared with the selvas. The Amazon,
you will notice on the map, runs very nearly on the
line of the equator. So day after day the great red sun
pours its rays downward from the zenith, while columns
of moisture rise from the river.

This excessive heat and moisture lead to a luxuriance
of vegetation such as is seen in no other region of the
world, In the eastern part of Brazil, wood that has
been split and used for making fences shoots forth green

sti eros Sait nbc ier bP A

vicodin

AREAS ite strc tani

might begin
night!
cel off across
ippear to be
e wide view
aters rolling
blue of the
Vhat is that
Perhaps it
ed, it is but
river reaches
distant from
this spot is

usand miles
yusand miles
ntic Ocean.
ast, reaching
en hundred
arly and five

ut they are
‘he Amazon,
“arly on the
reat red sun
1ile columns

. luxuriance
gion of the
od that has
forth green

a eb A icant lc

ia i i LEC See NI Nice TRA at.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 225

buds and leaves. Grass and creeping plants often spread
from the edge cf a pool, and so cover its surface that the
traveler walks upon it as if it were solid ground, and is
only warned of his blunder by seeing the ugly jaws of a
crocodile rising through the green turf before him.
Under such conditions of growth, it is not remarkable
that the trees and the shrubs should be giants of their
kind.

inter the green gloom of the selvas and look about
you. Youare able to see but a few feet in any diree-
tion, so densely do the trees and vines grow on all sides.
Unlike our northern forests, which open up a series of
avenues or pathways to the feet of the traveler, this
forest presents a blank wall to his eye, and clogs his
footsteps with clinging vines and undergrowth. It is
a labyrinth, a wilderness, a vast tangle.

Most of the trees are over one hundred feet tall.
Many are twice that height. Here are sturdy giants
forty and even fifty feet in circumference, and then
again tender saplings that you can enclose with your
hands.

The trunks of the trees are what the traveler gener-
ally sees, for the foliage is always far above and turned
away from him, turned upward and outward to catch
the sunlight.

It is an upward struggle to reach the light on the
part of all. A young tree stands no chance whatever in
the forest twilight near the ground. Its only chance is
to crowd its stem upward between the great trunks
that have worked their way up before it.

The young sapling has to struggle with and perhaps

226 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

push back and destroy a dozen other young trees. At
last it penetrates the great roof of verdure that shuts in
the lower forest, catches the first glorious burst of sun-
shine, and puts forth a shower of green leaves in answer
to the light.

This upper world is a true paradise. Billows of green
stretch away for miles; vrilliant red, purple, and yellow
flowers relieve the green; and birds, butterflies, and
bees, riot in the sunshine, the fresh air, and the beauty.
No one can know what the top of the Amazon forest is,
unless he takes a balloon and sails above this wonder-
ful upper world.

But as that excursion is hardly possible, the traveler
must content himself with a study of tree trunks. Some
grow smaller as they rise, some larger; some are girt
with creepers so that they resemble a maypole adorned
with ribbons; others are smooth as a polished floor.
They vary in color from black, brown, and red, to yel-
low, gray, and white.

The parasitic creepers and vines run to and fro from
tree to tree, looking like the cordage of a ship. They
are so many and form so close a network that they
might be said to resemble a cobweb. Some are as
thick as small trees, and their winding, twisting growth
makes them appear like snakes.

The trees here are covered with the most beautiful
orchids, which grow on their trunks and branches.
The colors of these orchids are not so delicate as they
are brilliant. This is true of all South American

flowers and birds. Some one has said that the whole’

country looks as if it were painted red and yellow.

Ss A aetna aaa area yes,

i oer a ea

g trees. At
that shuts in
yurst of sun-
yes in answer

lows of green
e, and yellow
tterflies, and
l the beauty.
zon forest is,
this wonder-

, the traveler
tunks. Some
pbme are girt
pole adorned
lished floor.

1 red, to yel-

and fro from
ship. They
k that they
Some are as
sting growth

ost beautiful
nd branches.
icate as they
h American

ut the whole’

yellow.

a Aa ERRNO aioe a,

ea ar eee

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 227

The leaves of the trees vary in color from a pale
green to almost a black. The ground in the forest
is carpeted deepiy with grasses, ferns, and matted
vines.

The value of the vegetation of the selvas is untold.
Here is found mahogany, rosewood, and tortoise shell
wood, for the cabinetmaker ; Brazil wood for the dyer ;
sarsaperilla and cinchona for the doctor; the cow tree
for the Indian; and the india rubber tree for nearly
every artist and tradesman.

There are as many different kinds of animals in the
forests of the Amazon as there are different kinds of
plants. Playful monkeys swing from tree to tree, chat-
tering and grimacing. One kind of monkey uses his
tail as an extra paw. He fastens it about a branch and
swings by it, or uses it for clutching branches while
passing from tree to tree.

The howling monkey is a very ugly animal. It is
often heard in the forests at night, shrieking in a most
unmusical manner. It is startling to hear a migrating
colony of these monkeys give their cry.

Other strange sounds often echo through the forest.
The jaguar roars, the wildcat yells, and then the whole
woodland orchestra begins.

The chatter of the parrots is heard continually, and
their bright plumage seems like sunshine in the shades
of the forest. They and the humming birds, those gor-
geous specks, are of all the colors of the rainbow.

The toucans are interesting and curious dirds. They
are afflicted with so huge a bill that they cannot build
nests. So they velect a convenient knot hole in a tree,

A a

Bl be

228 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

and there proceed to make a home for themselves and
their little ones.

As you might suppose, the forests swarm with insects.
There are large, lovely butterflies of the most beautiful
tints, —such as pale blue and scarlet.

But most of the insects are not as harmless as the
butterfly. Many are poisonous and dangerous. ‘There
are the flies, the ticks, — little creatures that bury them-
selves in the flesh of the traveler, —armies of stinging
ants, and millions of mosquitoes.

The mosquitoes are the pest of the upper Amazon.
The traveler has to protect himself by wearing mos-
quito netting over his head in the daytime. The poor
Indian is driven nearly wild by them, and resorts to the
most desperate measures to defend himself against his
tiny foes. He buries himself up to the neck in mud,
and then winds wet cloths about his head. Sometimes
he builds fires close to his tent and tries to smoke the
mosquitoes out. Bui the smoke is almost as injurious
to the Indian as it is to the mosquito.

Besides the selvas, through which we have been wan-
dering, there are submerged forests. To examine them
a canoe and a guide would be very necessary. There
are many channels parallel with the Amazon. Some
are large enough to appear to be the main stream and
to mislead inexperienced boatmen.

In the rainy season, when the Amazon rises, and all
the main chinnels and tributaries share in its rise, the
forests on its banks are flooded; and for several months
only the tops of the trees appear above the surface of
the river. As the boatmen steer by the banks, it is at

1emselves and

n with insects.
nost beautiful

rmiless as the
ry.
erous. ‘There
1at bury them-
es of stinging

pper Amazon.
wearing mos-
ne. The poor
resorts to the
1f against his
neck in mud,
. Sometimes
to smoke the
st as injurious

ave been wan-
examine them
ry
ssary. There
nazon. Some
in stream and

rises, and all
in its rise, the
everal months
the surface of
banks, it is at

Liens

tank

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 229

such times more difficult than usual to select the main
stream. Small sailing vessels have sometimes left it
and wandered for weeks amid the confusing lanes and
avenues of the forest itself.

The Amazon has four large tributaries from the
south. The Madeira is the largest. Its waters are
yellower than those of the Amazon, because it carries
more fine mud in solution.

Travelers often sail down the western coast of South
America, and cross the Andes in the neighborhood of
Lake Titicaca in Bolivia. The head waters of the
Madeira rise in this region, and tourists frequently take
canoes and Indian guides and float down this river to
the Amazon.

The great obstruction to the peaceful sail is the falls
of the Madeira. There are nineteen falls within two
hundred and thirty miles. A few can be descended in
the canoe, but in nearly every case, the cargo, and very
often the canoe itself, has to be carried around the falls.
Think how tedious it must be for a party to be obliged
to move half a dozen canoes upon rollers, through a
dense forest swarming with mosquitoes and other tor-
ments.

A single railroad of two hundred miles around the
fells would be a great blessing. Several attempts have
been made to construct such a road, but the place is
so unhealthful that the English and German engineers
and workmen die of malaria soon after entering upon
their work.

There are many stagnant pools in the neighborhood
of the falls, and malarial gases and vapors are always

Se tad

Nn nee

230 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—

rising from their surfaces. The workmen have endeay-
ored to remove these pools by blasting rocks, but all to
no purpose. The leading men sicken and die; then the
remainder of the party lose hope and abandon the under-
taking. Certain tribes of Indians could work here

safely; but they are too lazy, and prefer their oceupa- *

tion of boatman to that of common laborer.

The valley of the Madeira is one of the chief rubber
regions of the Amazon. The rude huts of the rubber
gatherers stand in many places along the shores of the
river. They are built of bamboo and thatched with
palm leaves, or else they are made of mud.

There are two particulars in which rubber making in
Brazil differs from rubber making in Central America.
First, the sap is collected in small clay cups, one of
which is placed beneath every cut in the trunk of the
tree; and, secondly, the hardening of the rubber is
effected by a different and curious process.

After having collected a large amount of sap in a
great turtle shell, the rubber maker, with his pipe in
his mouth and his turtle shell by his side, sits down
before what looks like a large lamp chimney. It is
really a small clay stove. The smoke coming from the
top shows that there is a fire within.

The Indian takes a light wooden shovel, dips up some
of the caoutchouc, and holds it over the chimney. The
smoke and the heat harden the sap to rubber. The
rubber is at first of a milk white color, but the smoke
blackens it after a while.

When the first layer is hardened, the Indian dips up
more sap and hardens that over the first layer; and so

ac da en as

n have endeay-
oeks, but all to
d die; then the
idon the under-
uld work here

1 their oceupa- *

er.
1e chief rubber
; of the rubber
e shores of the
thatched with
dL.

ber making in
ntral America.
y cups, one of
e trunk of the
the rubber is
OSs.

it of sap in a
th his pipe in
ide, sits down
himney. It is
ming from the

|, dips up some
thimney. The
rubber. The
but the smoke

Indian dips up
layer; and so

anna
j
4

BES ace ent nh SR

(an a a a a ANE YE A LE TSN IT eR Te Ne OE
OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 231

on, until the rubber cake which he is making comes to
the desired thickness.

The rubber shoes that were worn forty years ago
were made by the Indians of the Madeira. ‘They made
clay moulds of the desired shape and size, dipped them
repeatedly in the sap, and hardened them over the chim-
ney. At last rubber shoes were made.

But some one may ask who could ever wear them,
filled as they were with clay. The Indians managed
that. They soaked the shoes in water until the clay
softened and could be easily removed.

The largest tributary of the Amazon from the north
is the Rio Negro. The waters of this river are of inky
blackness, and can be distinguished from the yellow
tide of the Amazon for some distance below the mouth
of the Rio Negro.

There is one very singular fact concerning the Cassi-
quiare, a river north of the Rio Negro. Some months
it flows into the Rio Negro, and is thus a tributary of
the Amazon; and some months it flows into the Orinoco.
The direction of its flow depends upon the rising or fall-
ing of the Amazon.

The rainy season south of the equator is from March
till September. The largest tributaries of the Amazon
come from south of the equator, and are much swollen
during these months. Consequently the Amazon itself
reaches its greatest height at this time.

Its surface is higher then than that of the Rio Negro,
which at that time is lower than usual, because of the
dry season prevailing in that part of South America

north of the equator. The waters of the Rio Negro are

232 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

dammed back slightly by the flooded Amazon, and the
waters of the Cassiquiare are so held back that they
are even turned into the channel of the Orinoco.

When the rainy season prevails north of the equator,
the Cassiquiare flows into the Amazon through the Rio
Negro.

At the mouth of the Rio Negro lies the town of
Manaos. This is not a celebrated or well known city as
yet, but before long it will be.

Para, by reason of its position at the mouth of the
Amazon and its greater nearness to Kurope and the
United States, will sooner or later surpass Rio Janeiro;
and the prophets also say that Manaos is destined to
surpass Para. Large steamers will then ascend the
Amazon to the mouth of the Rio Negro, and be laden
with the products that formerly were shipped to Para.

Manaos is the centre of the Amazon Valley, as St.
Louis is the centre of the Mississippi Valley. It has
rather a forlorn look at present. Most of the houses
are dilapidated buildings of one story. Flocks of tur-
key buzzards perch on the ridges of the houses so con-
stantly that the traveler often takes them for wooden
ornaments.

There are one or two fine public buildings. There is
a market house of zine placed commandingly upon a
bluff. And there is the foundation of a grand oper
house of red sandstone, finer even than the one at Para.
The structure is only ten feet high; for they have
ceased working upon it, because the money has given
out. *

In all the business streets there is a constant smell

won, and the
ck that they
inoco.

the equator,
ugh the Rio

the town of
cnown city as

nouth of the
‘ope and the
Rio Janeiro;
; destined to
1 ascend the
and be laden
ed to Para.
‘alley, as St.
ley. It has
f the houses
‘locks of tur-
ouses sO con-
for wooden

rs. There is
ngly upon a
grand opera
one at Para.
‘ they have
y has given

nstant smell

ce a te i ic CR eS ni a SS: ait Das 3

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 933

0-80

of rubber. The warehouses are stacked with great
wedges and chunks of rubber, which resemble cheeses.
Beside rubber, Manaos exports cocoa, sarsaparilla, Brazil
nuts, fish, and turtles.

The turtles are very plentiful along the Madeira.
When the natives find them upon the shore of the
river, they turn them upon their backs and then they
have them safe.

Brazil nuts are gathered by the natives. Often as
many as nine little nuts are packed closely into one
large shell. The hard shells sometimes fall upon the
heads of Indians and kill them. The collecting of Brazil
nuts for export is one of the many difficult and perilous
tasks which the Indians of Brazil have to perform.

In descending the Amazon from Manaos, very few
vessels are seen. This is because the river is so wide.
Owing to the trade wind which blows continually
from east to west, vessels can sail up the Amazon quite
as fast as the current can carry them down. A
schooner with furled sails would drift from the base of
the Andes to the mouth of the Amazon in two months ;
and the wind would carry it nearly as far in the same
time, on its return trip up the stream.

Obidos is situated on a bluff rising high above the
Amazon, opposite the mouth of the Tapajos River. — It
is the centre of many cocoa plantations.

The tree from which chocolate and cocoa is obtained
is thirty feet tall and resembles a cherry tree. A
fleshy fruit from four to nine inches in length, and like
a cucumber in shape, grows from the brown bark of the
trunk and branches. From twenty to forty seeds,

—— rere ” ee iss PENS Oe Ahes ho

234 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—--t--—

shaped like almonds, grow within the fruit. These are
the chocolate seeds.

They are separated from the pulp and dried in Brazil.
They are then sent’ abroad to England and France to be
farther prepared for the market. A thin and brittle
shell covers each seed. This, when pounded into frag-
ments, makes cocoa.

Near Obidos the Amazon widens, and appears even
more stately than before. Wonderful forests skirt the
southern shore. The impulse of the ocean tide, though
not its saltness, is felt here. Finally the great island
of Marajo appears, separating the Amazon into two
streams, — the one south of the island being known as
the Para River, and the one north still bearing the
name of Amazon.

The Amazon River at its mouth is fourteen miles
wider than the Hudson River is long. Before the coast
of South America can be seen, vessels far out at sea are
able to draw fresh water from the ocean. This fresh
water comes from the Amazon.

Para, on the Para River, is seventy-five miles from
the Atlantic. It is the great storehouse for the riches
of the Amazon Valley. All the many vegetable prod-
ucts of the interior are brought in small vessels down
the river, and are placed in warehouses, to be shipped in
time to Europe and the United States.

Para is an excessively hot city. Blankets are unnec-
essary at night, and overcoats are only worn as a pro-
tection against the rain; but it rains here the greater
part of the year. Scarcely a day passses without show:
ers. They generally come in the afternoon.

t. These are

ried in Brazil.
| Irance to be
n and brittle
ded into frag-

appears even
ests skirt the
1 tide, though
great island
zon into two
ing known as
| bearing the

yurteen miles
fore the coast
out at sea are
. This fresh

re miles from
for the riches
egetable prod-
vessels down
be shipped in

ts are unnec-
yorn as a pro-
e the greater
vithout show-
n.

dad ves ac a ln a ts bal na ROE I 9

CUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 235

The streets of Para are narrow, like those of ali South
American cities. Within a few years most of the prin-
cipal streets of the city have been repaved with granite
blocks. They now compare favorably with the streets
of Boston and New York,

The better class ef houses are covered with pretty
blue and white tiles. The poorer houses are made of
mud, which is often painted with bright colors.

Nazareth Avenue is one of the handsomest streets in
Para. It is wide and well paved, has a line of horse
cars, and is bordered by orange, lemon, banana, cocoa-
nut, and silk-cotton trees.

The silk-cotton is a particularly beautiful tree. Its
trunk, instead of tapering, grows larger as it ascends.
Like the palm, it has 2 great tuft of leaves at the top.
The tree yields a superior kind of cotton, which is as
fine and soft as silk, but which cannot be woven into
cloth on account ‘of the shortness of the fibre.

Nazareth Avenue leads to an open square, where the
public fountains are situated, and where colored laun-
drosses, and water carriers quarrel continually in loud
and threatening tones.

The tropical forest surrounds Para on three sides, and
many of the streets suddenly end before a dense tangle
of trees, shrubs, and vines. Para is, after all, but a
clearing in the wilderness. You would scarcely think
so, however, if some evening you should visit its oper
house, — the finest in South America.

It is built of brick, but has fine alcoves, supported by
marble pillars, which run around three sides of the house.
These alcoves are very convenient on rainy nights, while

HATS

236 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—r-o-0—

the people are waiting for their carriages. The theatre
hall is finely decorated, and there are, besides, airy cor-
ridors and a ballroom for promenading between the acts
of the play.

The South Americans enjoy walking and talking at
the theatre more than listening to the play. It has,
therefore, become the custom to have the pauses be-
tween the acts very long, so that every one of the
audience may have time to talk, walk, or partake of
refreshments as he desires. Booths for the sale of ices,
candy, and sweetmeats are near at hand, either just
without or within the opera house.

One might think that with these many recesses the
audience would attend to the opera when it is going on,
But they do not. Their gaze is directed upon the
house, and their talking is so constant and so loud that,
much of the time, the actors cannot be heard. But
the audience go away content; they hive seen and been
seen,

Both before and after the play the plaza before the
opera house is a brilliant sight. The magnificent build-
ing is ablaze with lights. There are little stalls every-
where about the plaza. Bursts of music are heard,
and carriages roll to and fro. Richly dressed men and
women pass through the alcoves, and a crowd of the
poorer classes of Para gaze upon and enjoy the spec-
tacle from the plaza.

The common people can always be seen in the market.
The market house in Vara is built of stone, and is only

partially roofed over. The stalls are loaded with flow-’

ers, fruits, vegetables, fowls, and fish.
9 n 9

——

rae Ea,

5
a
4
‘

The theatre
ides, airy ecor-
ween the acts

ul talking at
lay. It has,
ie pauses be-

one of the
rv partake of
y sale of ices,

, either just

recesses the
tis going on.
ed upon the
so loud that,
heard. But
een and been

Zu before the
ificent build-
stalls every-
¢ are heard,
sed men and
rowd of the
joy the spec-

1 the market.
, and is only

al with flow-’

ee ee

3
a
M1
a
4

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 237

Indian women and neygresses preside over the stalls.
The Indian women are remarkable for their silence.
The negresses pass their time in laughing and chatting
with one another, ‘Phey are enormously tall and large.
They wear turbans glowing with every color of the
rainbow, and gold chains and rings; and the waists of
their white cotton dresses are elaborately decorated with
cotton lace. Their black eyes twinkle and their glossy
cheeks dimple continually.

They are only sober when a priest appears in sight.
In his dark robes he is a strong contrast to the bril-
liantly dressed Aunt Dinahs and Chiloes, as he passes
through the market, spcaking kind words, both to
them and to the silent Indians.

The coast from Para to Pernambuco is very low,
sandy, and monotonous. Pernambuco is the third com-
mercial city of Brazil. It is called the “City of the
Reef,” because tive hundred feet from the shore, extend-
ing for several miles north and south from Pernambuco,
is a great reef,

This reef is nearly covered at high tide. A solid sea
wall, five feet high and ten feet broad, has been built
upon it. Against this the breakers rage without dis-
turbing the quiet harbor within.

The vessels in the harbor are drawn up in two lines,
one by the reef and the other opposite, near the water
front of the city, which is faced with fine cut stone.
Ships too large to enter the harbor anchor outside the
reef,

Pernembuco is the great sugar market of Brazil. It
does not take long for the traveler to discover that fact.

238 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The vessels in the harbor are being laden with sugar ;
the porters in the warehouses are tossing bags of sugar
about; the exer. in the streets are drawing sugar; the
mules and donkeys coming fron. the interior plantations
to the city have panniers of sugar strapped upon their
backs. The city streets smell of sugar, and the pave-
ments are slippery with molasses.

Pernambuco would be a perfect paradise to those
little boys and girls who wish that the world was made
of sugar, so that they might nibble the upper crust.
They would be happy indeed in this sugar city.

South of Pernambuco the coast becomes bold and
rocky. Mountains begin to rise upon the plateau and
to draw their faint blue lines along the far horizon.

Lying on the eastern side of the deep sheltered Bay
of All Saints we find the city of Bahia. If it were not
that the bay forms a perfect harbor, we showld find no
city here. Bluffs two hundred feet high skirt the bay,
sometimes approaching to within two hundred feet of
the shore, and then retreating ten hundred feet from it.
The resulting beach is very irregular.

Bahia, like the distant city of Quebec, consists of an
upper town on the bluffs and a lower town on the shore.
The business quarter of the city is, of course, the lower
town. One long street runs north and south beside the
wharves, and between it and the bluff are as many more
streets as can be crowded into the scanty space.

Some of the streets are wide and well lighted; others
are only two feet wider than the street cars which pass
through them. The people who walk in these streets
have to step into doorways to allow the car to pass.

cocina oCese

4
®
f

‘n with sugar ;
bags of sugar
hg sugar; the
ior plantations
ed upon their
and the pave-

ise to those
orld was made
) Upper crust.
rar city.

mes bold and
ie plateau and
: horizon.

sheltered Bay
If it were not
shoud find no
skirt the bay,
indred feet of
d feet from it.

consists of an
1 on the shore.
se, the lower
uth beside the
as many more
Space.
ghted; others
ws which pass
these streets
ur to pass.

¥
i

Sil tsi i ONO

isc hae eo x

RMON IE a HRP IDB I SEE

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 239

—*#-o-—

The warehouses are many stories high; the walls are
painted white and yellow, and the roofs red. There are
but few fine public buildings in Bahia, so that the view
of the city from the harbor, ciough cheerful, is some-
what monotonous.

The merchants are chiefly interested in the exporta-
tion o: coffee, tobacco, sugar, and diamonds. ‘They dress

LANDING STEPS AT BAHIA.

in white, and carry umbrellas to protect themselves from
the scorching rays of the sun.

The upper town, which contains most of the resi-
dences, is reached by several steep streets ; by one wide,
fine street with a gentle ascent for carriages; and by a
steam elevator. The old-fashioned sedan chair is used
by ladies in Bahia. A lady takes her seat in the chair
and the curtain is dropped; then the servants seize the
poles, or handles, of the chair, aiid in a very short time

240 THE WORLD AN? ITS PEOPLE.

eee

they have climbed the steep street and have gained the
upper town,

This section of Bahia contains the public buildings.
The churches of Bahia are superior to many of the
churches in the other cities of Brazil. They have
beautifully frescoed ceilings, delicate wood carving,
and marble floors. There is one church built of stone
brought from the United States, as ballast, in ships that
sauine to be freighted with Brazilian products.

On the edge of the sluffs is a large, neglected public
garden. The avenues of palms and mango trees are
exceedingly fine. Urns and statues are scattered about,
and there is a broad promenade on the edge of the
bluff, protected by a marble railing. The sunset view
of the harbor is very beautiful; and, in the early even-
ing, many people can be seen walking through this ave-
nue, or resting on seats covered with tiles and decorated
with sheils, while the rosy, western light falls full upon
their dark, sallow faces.

Bahia is the commercial city of the second region of
Brazil, which is the region of the gold and dismond
mines. Therefore it is only natural that the finest Bra-
zilian diamond, the ‘Star of the South,” should have
been exported from Bahia.

The city also exports a superior kind of tobacco,
which is quite as good as the tobacco of Havana in
Cuba. On that account, cigars made from it are called
Havana cigars.

Travelers always purchase feather flowers in Bahia.
They are made by nuns in the convent, and are very
beautiful. The brilliant or dcticate tints of every flower

as: retard

sisi SN PGR RRR NI i tif OTA R IN SE ENROL T TE Baca RE le Ke ss

ave gained the

tblic buildings.
» many of the
. They have
wood carving,
built of stone
t, in ships that
icts.

sglected public
ingo trees are
cattered about,
e edge of the
ne sunset view
the early even-
‘ough this ave-
; and decorated
falls full upon

cond region of
| and diamond
the finest Bra-
” should have

il of tobacco,
of Havana in
mit are called

vers in Bahia.
, and are very
of every flower

as: retard

in Nc EMOTE CCE MAORI EI. iti OTERO! ENN ONT: TPibNI lS s

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 241

—

that grows in Brazil can be matched exactly in birds’
feathers. With real flowers before them as copies, the
nuns make lovely hyacinths, orange blossoms, violets,
and roses, both full-blown and in the bud. It is only
by smelling, that the real flower can be distinguished
from the artificial.

Rio Janeiro is more beautifully situated tian any other
South American city. It is on the western side of the
Bay of Rio Janeiro, which is large enough to contain all
the ships in the world, and has been favorably compared
with the most beautiful bay in Europe, the Bay of Naples.

anne.
yeas ay
—

BAY OF RIO JANEIRO.

The entrance to Rio Janeiro harbor is very narrow.
It is between two rocky bluffs, the western one being
known as Sugar Loaf on account of its conical shape.
The waters of the bay are always as calm as an inland
lake. With the exception of the narrow entrance, the
harbor is surrounded by mountains.

242 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The Organ Mountains lie to the north, the peaks of
Corcovado and ‘Tijuca to the west, and Sugar Loaf to the
south. ‘The mountains are lofty, while their sides are
very abrupt and steep. Their sharp lines and frowning
heights form a strong contrast to the narrow green plain
lying between them and the bay.

The view of the bay and the city, from a vessel
anchored in the harbor, is delightful. Many green
islands dot the clear water. Some of them are large,
and contain villages and farms; others are tiny, and
have only the gray roof of a chapel rising from the
midst of a small grove of trees.

The city of Rio Janeiro, like a long and narrow
crescent, lies along the western shore. It is but half a
mile wide, and is prevented by the mountains from
growing any more in a westerly direction. It is nine
or ten miles from north to south, and can still grow in
those directions.

From the harbor, Rio Janeiro appears, in the morning
sunshine, like a city of alabaster. With its brilliant
white walls, and its dreamily nodding palms mirrored in
the level waters of the bay, it is like a city in the Ara-
bian Nights. But all admiration vanishes on entering
the city itself. Rio Janeiro is terribly dirty.

A few of the streets are so narrow that no ray of sun-
light enters them. They are hot and stifling. Foul
odors and sickening gases arise from the open gutters
which run through the middle of the streets. The
slender trunk of a beautiful palm often stretches upward
from a heap of decaying vegetables, seeming to bear its
great green tuft of leaves up into a purer region than

pit sa sR

seat ips 6S alin 2

|
|
i
i
i

"
i¢

th, the peaks of
igar Loaf to the

their sides are
s and frowning
row green plain

from a vessel
Many green
them are large,
s are tiny, and
‘ising from the

ng and narrow
It is but half a
nountains from
on. It is nine
vn still grow in

in the morning
ith its brilliant
Ims mirrored in
city in the Ara-
les on entering
irty.
t no ray of sun-
stifling. Foul
1e open gutters
streets. ‘The
tretches upward
ning to bear its
rer region than

<p Rae RISA

alia ICSE i

—

4
|
j
\

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 243

_—-so—

the filthy streets below. Squalid beggars, and gaunt,
wolflike dogs, are seen at the street corners.

Rio Janeiro is a series of disappointments. Its sur-
roundings are perfect; but the city itself is unhealthy,
situated as it is in the tropics, with but little attention
paid to the most ordinary rules for city cleanliness.

Yellow fever and smallpox hold possession for one-
half the year, and all the rich people have their summer
homes among the mountains. Their houses which, if
erected in the city, would form fine streets, are all in
Petropolis or other mountain resorts.

The public buildings are of an inferior architecture,
and are certainly in need of repair. But there is one
place which never disaypoints the traveler. Return to
it as often as he may, it seems always as grand and
marvelous as at first. This is the Botanical Gardens
of Rio Janeiro.

They are some little distance from the city, at the
foot of the peak of Corcovado, and are reached by the
horse cars.

The glory of the Botanical Gardens is the avenue of
palms. This extends for half a mile in a straight line
from the entrance gate. Halfway down, the main ave-
nue is crossed by another at right angles to it. Where
the two avenues intersect, stands a fountain.

The trees are eighty feet high and three feet in diam-
eter. There are about one hundred and fifty of them in
the main avenue, and they stand thirty feet apart. As
you walk down the gravel path, the trees before you
seem to blend with one another, so that you appear to
be inclosed in a gray-walled corridor, roofed with green.

ee eer See le Mak eae Lee nee rr

244 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

or oe

There are other avenues shaded by trees in the gar-
dens. In one place the paths are bordered for some dis-
tance by the same kind of trees; in another by different
kinds ; and still in another, by different varieties of the
same species. ‘The arrangement is varied in a thousand
interesting and instructive ways.

Here is a large thicket representing a bit of tropical
forest. It contains lofty trees, strangled in the wild
growth of smaller trees, shrubs, and parasitic climbers
and creepers. Humming birds poise their dainty little
bodies above gay flowers; and bugs, bright as gems, are
seen upon the glossy leaves. Everything is an exact
copy of the primeval forests of this region.

Besides the plants of South America, tropical plants
from all over the world are growing here. Only the
Botanical Garden in Java has a collection larger than
this of Rio Janeiro. :

No one who visits the capital of Brazil must fail to
ascend Corcovado. This mountain peak lies to the
southwest of Rio Janeiro, and is over two thousand
feet high. It is cone-shaped, and its walls are very
steep, except on the side where the railway has been
built.

The railroad is constructed like those upon Mount
Washington and the Swiss mountains. The single car,
which the engine pushes before it, is open, so that an
ever-widening view is obtained during the hour’s ride.

The track passes directly through a forest; and when
the traveler’s eyes are weary with studying the ocean
and the plain below, he can feast them upon the graceful
ferns and bright flowers which almost brush the track.

j
4
3
;

ees in the gar-
ed for some dis-
her by different

varieties of the
d in a thousand

bit of tropical
led in the wild
rasitic climbers
eir dainty little
rht as gems, are
ing is an exact
on.

tropical plants
iere. Only the
ion larger than

4il must fail to
eak lies to the
r two thousand
walls are very
ilway has been

se upon Mount
The single car,
pen, so that an
he hour’s ride.

rest; and when
lying the ocean
pon the graceful
rush the track.

SRR TE

|
4

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 245

Half way up there is a fine hotel, where many mer-
chants, flying from the pestilent city, spend their
nights.

eyond the hotel the ride becomes more dangerous,
and, in places, it is worse than any part of the ascent of
Mount Washington. If a rail should yield, a nail give
way, or a stone be upon the track, car and people would
be dashed to atoms at the foot of the terrible cliffs.

At length the engine pauses. The remaining few
hundred feet must be climbed by the passenger himself.
Hastening up the rocky steps, he finds himself on a
walled platform, covered with an iron roof as a protec-
tion against wind or rain.

Spread out before him is the view, —one of the most
wonderful that the earth affords. On a clear day, fifty
square miles of ocean, bay, mountains, and plains are
visible; and the great city, which, from a distance, ap-
pears always so beautiful, lies at his feet.

The compass and the variety of the sight are remark-
able. It is no wonder that visitors to Rio Janeiro climb
the Corcovado again and again to learn the changes in
cloud and in sunshine of this world-renowned view, and
to impress more strongly upon their minds its various
features.

Negro water carriers, fish mongers, and dealers in
poultry are seen upon the city streets early in the day.
The fish dealers announce their coming by sounding
wooden clappers. The poultry is carried about in cov-
ered straw baskets; and it is a funny sight to see a sober
black face shaded by such a basket, through whose crev-
ices chickens pop their heads. The knowing birds cluck

]

246 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—--o—

anxiously, and gaze around as if seeking to discover
what is to become of them.

The beef and mutton is imported from Buenos Ayres,
and what do you'suppose is imported from the United
States? Not Boston baked beans, but salt codfish.
They actually prefer this dry salt fish to fresh fish
caught in their own bay. A New Englander would
hardly recognize his codfish by taste, for it is pre, wed,
like many of the Brazilian dishes, with a great quantity
of garlic and oil.

Let us see how a Brazilian living in the city of Rio
Janeiro forty years ago, spent his day. He rose with
the sun, ate a light repast of an egg, a roll, and a cup of
coffee, and then went to his office in order to accomplish
as much business as possible before the excessive heat
of the middle of the day.

At twelve o’clock he opened his white snn umbrella,
and turned his dark face homeward. On his arrival,
breakfast was served. That was like a dinner, except
that neither fowl nor vegetables appeared. It consisted
of soup, steak or chops, omelette or salad, and cheese,
sweetmeats, and coffee.

There is a Brazilian proverb that coffee, to be good,
should be “ black as night, and strong as death.” Mest
of the coffee drunk in Brazil is of this kind. As coffee
appears at all the meals, ard is freely indulged in
between meals, its effect upon the people is marked.
Most of th: men in Rio Jnneiro can searcel: keep still.
The muscles of their faces and bodies are always tw1tch-
ing, because of this indulgence in strong coffee.

The business man whose day we are following rested

UE BOTs li Re Mtl Sen

ng tu discover

Suenos Ayres,
om the United
t salt codfish.
1 to fresh fish
glander would
it is pre, wed,
great quantity

the city of Rio

He rose with
ll, and a cup of
r to accomplish
excessive heat

> sun umbrella,
Yn his arrival,
dinner, except
l. It consisted
d, and cheese,

ee, to be good,
death.” Most
nd. As coffee
y indulged in
ple is marked.
cel: keep still.
always twitch-
coffee.

sliowing rested

peer as

PTET as

ans

USE Et wl ie Slit een

*
A
4

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 247

until four o’clock, and then he returned to his office. He
remained there till eight, when dinner called him home.
In the evening he either visited the theatre or proceeded
to the gambling table.

The wife of this merchant passed her day very qui-
etly. At six in the morning she attended mass, and at
seven returned to her home, where she remained for the
rest of the day. No Brazilian lady ever appeared on the
street in-the daytime after half-past seven. Within
doors she embroidered, dozed in her hammock, or peered
through the blinds at the passers-by.

Sometimes she did a little shopping. She sent a ser-
vant to the stores for samples; and, after she had ex-
amined them and chosen what she desired, the servant
returned the samples, and paid for what had been
selected.

The evening was the happiest time of day for the
poor, imprisoned lady. She then made a grand toilet,
and, accompanied by her husband, went to the theatre
or to an ice cream saloon.

Now all this is changed. The Brazilian merchants
spend their days precisely as do the business men of
New York and Boston. The women too are no longer
close prisoners in their houses, but may be seen upon
the streets in the daytime just as in our own country.

On leaving the city of Rio Janeiro, let us take a pass-
ing glance at the town of Petropolis. It is an hour’s
journey from the capital. The first half of the trip is
upon a steamer, which crosses the beautiful bay to the
northern side. There a very steep railroad takes the
traveler right into the heart of the Organ Mountains.

248 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

Petropolis is very much like a Swiss village. It: is
situated in a lofty valley, surrounded by mountains.
There are several swift rivers which rush through its
very streets and are spanned at frequent intervals by
wooden bridges. The summer houses and hotels are
ull very brightly and gayly painted. They have orna-
mental woodwork and little balconies and piazzas. The
palace and beautiful grounds of the late emperor, Dom
Pedro, can be seen here. :

The third region of Brazil, the district lying between
the twentieth and thirtieth parallels, includes the val-
leys of the Parana and Paraguay Rivers. It is well
adapted to grazing. Large numbers of cattle and horses
are imported from the Argentine Republic, and beef
and mutton, hides and horns, will be among the future
riches of Brazil.

Now, how does Brazil compare with our own country ?
Will it ever rival the United States in importance? It
is quite its equal now, so far as natural wealth is con-
cerned ; but it is, and probably ever will be, inferior to
the United States, so far as the people are concerned.

The United States is a nation of workers. The Bra-
zilians, on account of their climate, are obliged to rest
during a good part of the day, and, even in their working
hours, they often toil but languidly. Foreigners who
come to this country soon lose their energy, and drop
into the listless habits of the natives.

One-half of Brazil is unsettled. Most of the region
about the Amazon is an unbroken wilderness.

‘The healthfulness of the cities will be iniproved in
time, but the climate of the country cannot be altered.

village. It-is
by mountains.
sh through its
it intervals by
and hotels are
wey have orna-
Ll piazzas. The
emperor, Dom

lying between
eludes the val-
‘ss It is well
ttle and horses
iblic, and beef
ong the future

‘own country ?
iportance ?— It
wealth is con-
be, inferior to
e concerned.

ers. The Bra-
»bliged to rest
1 their working
‘oreigners who

ergy, and drop

t of the region
ness.

ve iniproved in
ot be altered.

ne tc A Rt A ES ATT CERT ARMRLANN eR

le OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 949

And so, as the greatest possible efficiency in a tropical
country can never rival the greatest possible efficiency
in a temperate country, I will venture to say that the
Republic of Brazil can never excel the Republic of the
Stars and Stripes.

CHAPTER XxX.
IN THE VALLEY OF THE LA PLATA.

Next to the Amazon, the largest river in South Amer-
ica is the Rio de la Plata. The name La Plata is only
given to a very few miles of the river, — only to its
very broad mouth, in fact. The Parana River unites
with the Uruguay River to form the La Plata almost
within sight of the sea.

The Parana is a fine, long river, rising in the moun-
tains near Rio Janeiro. Its principal tributary is the
Paraguay River, which stretches its long arms nearly
to the Madeira River, as if the Amazon and the La
Plata wished to greet each other.

The state of Paraguay is situated between the Parana
and Paraguay Rivers; while to the south, between the
Uruguay River and the ocean, lies its sister state, Uru-
guay. The third country included in the valley of the
La Plata is the Argentine Republic.

4 ; .
: The La Plata River has the widest mouth of any f
a river in the world. Sailing across it is like sailing on
; a vast sea, so far as the distance of the shores is con-

se a | eer tt mma

250 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

cerned; but the estuary of the La Plata is not deep like
the sea, It has many shallow places, and steamers and
sailing vessels have to make their way with the utmost
care,

The navigation of the La Plata, like that of the
Amazon, is free to all the world. Steamers from every
nation are seen upon its waters. In the harbor of
Rosario, two hundred miles from the mouth of the
La Plata, ships bearing the flags of England, Spain,
France, and Germany are laden with hides, horns, and
other products of the Argentine Republic.

There are two lines of steamboats on the La Plata,
which make a poor little attempt at luxuriance. The
‘abins have plate mirrors, brass and gilt work, and plush
furniture. The board furnished to passengers is excel-
lent, for the lines of steamers are rivals, and each tries
to excel the other in speed and in the exvellence of
its fare.

After leaving Rosario, the remainder of the trip up
the Parana and Paraguay Rivers to Asuncion, the capi-
tal of Paraguay, is not particularly interesting. Occa-
sionally a band of Chaco Indians come riding along
the western shore, and then there is excitement for a
while.

All of these Indians, — men, women, and children, —
are superb riders. They manage their horses with the
queerest kind of a bridle, which confines only the lower
jaw. Once they were very hostile to the whites and
fought many battles with them, but now they are quite
friendly.

Those that the traveler sees to-day ride their horses

2
i
i
4
ie
j
|

not deep like
steamers and
ith the utmost

» that of the
‘rs from every
the harbor of
mouth of the
land, Spain,
es, horns, and

the La Plata,
uriance. The
ark, and plush
neers is excel-
and each tries
exvellence of

f the trip up
cion, the eapi-
‘sting. Ocea-
riding along
itement for a

id children, —
ses with the
nly the lower
e whites and
they are quite

a their horses

aS ed ht se a 2 i AA PR A eis

eee

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 21

—e-9-e—

down to the river's edge, hold out their hands entreat-
ingly, and beg the steamer to stop that they may trade
their goods to the passengers. Rarely, however, does
the steamer pause for them,

The Chaco Indian catches fish in a very curious way.
He shoots them with bow and arrow. Standing in
water nearly up to his waist, the Indian watches his
chance, and, as the fish goes swimming serenely along,
he takes careful aim, and whizz the arrow goes, straight
to its mark down through even four feet of water.

Asuncion is a city that has suffered much through
war. Walking about the streets, you notice ruins
everywhere. Here are fallen houses, charred, smoky,
windowless buildings, and gaps in the streets where
buildings used to stand.

Presently you come to a marble palace covering sev-
eral acres by the side of the river, and showing, in the bits
of carving and decoration which are unmarred, what its
former beauty and magnificence must have been. Now,
with its yellowed marble and broken windows, it looks
like a hideous skull.

You ask a Paraguayan loitering near by, what build-
ing this is; and, taking his cigarette from his mouth,
he tells you it is Lopez’s palace. By questioning him
further, you learn that Lopez was the tyrant of Para-
guay. He forbade any one to leave the country, lest
the traveler should discover how oppressed were his
fellow countrymen, and return to raise an insurrection.

At length he plunged Paraguay into war with Bra-
zil, the Argentin’ Republic, and Uruguay. For years
the plucky little nation fought on, until it had pledged

952 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

its last cent and given its last drop of blood in the
“uuse of Lopez. The people did not love Lopez, but
it seemed to them to be their duty to defend Paraguay
against its enemies. _

After six years Lopez was killed and the war closed.
Nearly all the population had been destroysd by war
aud famine. The soldiers that were left had scarcely
any clothing, and shoes had been an exceptional luxury
for years.

This palace had been built just before the war, with
money wrung from the Paraguayans. The interior
decorations were gorgeous. Lopez's chamber was hung
with priceless lace, fine as a cobweb, over red satin.
The women of Paraguay are celebrated for this particu-
lar, delicate lace, and two hundred women were kept
busy for several years in making what Lopez demanded
for a single room. This palace and most of the build-
ings in A-uncion were either destroyed or mutilated in
the war.

After the war, the able men whom Lopez had ban-
ished returned to their ccuntry, and, by making laws
favorable to settlers, induced many people from abroad
to settle in Paraguay.

The county is rich in forests and pasture lands. In
its forests are found woods which are as rare and beau-
tiful as those of distant China and Japan. There is
uso timber so heavy that it sinks in water. Both kinds
of these rare woods will be of use to the world some day,
when sawmills are clattering on the remote streams of
Paraguay. But now the woodland silence is unbroken,
except for the occasional step of a curious traveler.

lood in the
» Lopez, but
d Paraguay

war closed.
yed by war
id scarcely
onal luxury

le war, with
“he interior
Yr was hung
r red satin.
this particu-

were kept
z demanded
f the build-
nutilated in

az, had ban-
aking laws
rom abroad

‘lands. In
» and beau-
. There is
Both kinds
d some day,
2 streams of
s unbroken,
aveler.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 253

_——oo—

The most profitable business in Paraguay is stock
raising. The grass is fine and there are no frosts, as
there are farther south in Uruguay and the Argentine
Republic; so the cattle are finer and heavier here than
in either of the other states.

The exports of the country are beef, mutton, wool,
hides, and, last but not least, maté, or Paraguay tea.

The drink of the Brazilians is coffee. At all hours
of the day they consume strong, hot, black coffee. But
the people of Paraguay and all the other countries in
the southern half of South America prefer maté.

This is a plant something like the holly. It grows to
be about ten feet tall; and its leaves are four inches in
length, with a rough edge. It is from the leaves that
the tea is made.

When gathered, they are spread upon a framework
of poles to dry. Then they are beaten to a fine powder,
which falls upon the clay floor below in dry, light piles.
The powder is collected and packed in bags made of
undressed hides. The bags are hung in the sun, and
shrink so much that the powder is compressed by the
action of the leather into a compact mass. It is then
exported from Paraguay into other countries of South
America. None of it is ever sent to Europe.

The natives drink maté by sucking it through a tube.
The common people use a hollow reed or a straw, but the
wealthier class have their tubes of silver or gold. Glass
ones are excellent, because of the ease with which they
can be washed. The common people have the best of it,
as the wooden tubes, unlike the metal ones, never burn
the mouth. A group of natives pass the cup of maté

254 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—~;o—

with the tube from one to another, but foreigners who
like the drink always carry their own tubes in neat
cases.

Paraguayan tea is very wholesome. It is cooling in
summer and heating in winter. It tastes like catnip
tea, and is rarely palatable at first. But with persever-
ance the taste for it can be acquired, and foreigners
often become quite fond of it.

Nations are generally hurt by indulging in a national
drink, but the Paraguayans form the single exception
to the rule. They are benefited both intellectually and
physically by the maté.

Paraguay is the home of the manioc plant as well.
Manioc comes from the roots of the manioc plant,
which are fleshy like those of the potato. The juice of
the roots is deadly poison, Still you need not be afraid
to eat manioc; for the poison is driven away by heat,
and when once the manioe root is baked or boiled it is
as harmless as any food.

Manioc flour is made by grinding the boiled roots of
the plant. The flour is made into bread and cakes, and
is as necessary to the Paraguayan table as is wheat flour
to the tables in the United States homes. Tapioca is
made by boiling the flour to a paste and then letting
it cool. As the paste cools, the little pearls, or globules,
are formed by crystallization.

One of the most enterprising states on the western
continent is Uruguay. It is growing as fast in propor-
tion to its area and population as the United States.

Every acre of land is productive. Aladdin’s lamp
could not bring to its owner a greater variety of fruits

etn iLO PR 2k Nt tn |

A tt MARAE RS NRE HARK BIO SS LIRR 1 SINE,

at RABEL bh DTN at tN”. sinsnian CN

‘oreigners who
tubes in neat

is cooling in
es like catnip
with persever-
ud foreigners

yin a national
igle exception

‘lectually and

plant as well.
manioc plant,

The juice of
| not be afraid
away by heat,
or boiled it is

oiled roots of
nnd cakes, and
is wheat flour
s. ‘Tapioca is
1 then letting
ls, or globules,

n the western
fast in propor-
ed States.

laddin’s lamp
riety of fruits

|
|

On eee ee an ee ee nee |

Pe tA RE RE A BON Sa TRA RI Sc 1 SIN

Patek MINI DIOR Ah ZTE icc ah SP mien

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 255

-?-o-o-—

and vegetables than can be raised in one single garden
plot. Coffee grows beside wheat; tobacco, barley, and
sugar cane spring up side by side; while apples, pears,
oranges, and lemons can be gathered in the same or-
chard. In fact, almost every fruit and vegetable known
in the world can find a home in Uruguay.

The grass is very nutritious. One acre of pasture
land can support many more oxen than an acre in any
other state where cattle are raised. It is hardly to be
wondered at that its capital, Montevideo, is second only
to Buenos Ayres in importance among the cities on the
La Plata.

Montevideo is situated on a peninsula which forms
one side of its harbor. The harbor of Montevideo is
really only a fair one. But, in contrast to the wretched
harbor ot Buenos Ayres opposite, the Montevideo har-
bor is considered an excellent one by seamen.

Montevideo is the Spanish way of saying, “I see a
mountain.” The mountain which the traveler is sup-
posed to see on ceming to this place is a hill near the
city, which is crowned by a fort and a lighthouse.

This lighthouse may be an exception to the rule; but it
is a frequent complaint of seamen that the lights on this
coast are not tended and kept burning with the perfect
regularity of those on the shores of North America.
The lighthouse keeper looks after his light when he has
no engagement to go hunting or fishing, or is not too
tired after such excursions.

The streets of Montevideo are wide, well paved, and
parallel to one another. They are lighted by gas, and
have many lines of horse cars running through them.

256 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-o-——

Some of the houses are only one story high, while
others are two or three stories. They have flat roofs,
which make them resemble Italian villas. Most of the
architects and builders of Montevideo are Italians; and,
as they plan and build, they unconsciously follow their
national styles.

Flat roofs are a great addition to the houses. They
are used as piazzas; and the families gather there in the
evening to enjoy the fresh breeze from the sea. The
fathers and mothers smoke their cigarettes tranquilly,
the children play about or eat candies, while overhead
the stars of the southern hemisphere burn brilliantly.

Montevideo is one of the healthiest cities in the world.
Indeed, some enthusiasts have called it a veritable Arca-
dia. The sea breeze tempers the heat of summer, and
the warm ocean current that bathes its shores, moderates
the cold of winter. When it is not June, it is October ;
and when it is not October, it is June.

The only time that the weather of Montevideo is
anything but delightful is when the winds from the
Andes blow. These winds are called pamperos, because,
sweeping down the slopes of the Andes, they blow
across the pampas, or plains of the La Plata. They are
very cold and penetrating, and are dreaded everywhere.
They howl through the streets of the cities, catch up
every wisp of straw and grain of dust, and fling them in
the faces of the pedestrians.

Sailors fear the sudden gales that the pamperos
bring. The passage from Cape Horn to the La Plata
is always dreaded by seamen on this account. Even
when not actually fighting the storm, the captain wears

i aeRO hg Ii ea iLL es LONE att oe

1 ita ai RC anon Be

ry high, while
have flat roofs,
. Most of the
Italians; and,
sly follow their

houses. They
ier there in the
the sea. The
ttes tranquilly,
while overhead
n brilliantly.

es in the world.
veritable Arca-
of summer, and
ores, moderates
» it is October ;

Montevideo is
inds from the
iperos, because,
les, they blow
ata. They are
ed everywhere.
sities, catch up
d fling them in

the pamperos
» the La Plata
ecount. Even
/ captain wears

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 257

an anxious face during this part of his voyage. He
knows not what treachery the calmest skies may hide.

Montevideo, owing to its activity and industry, ap-
pears almost like a North American city; but it has a
few characteristics which seem queer to a foreigner.
The policemen are soldiers of the army detailed to this
office ; and, instead of clubs, they carry swords.

The courtyards of many of the houses are paved with
knuckle bones, which are arrangec in ornamental de-
signs. The knuckle bones belonged to sheep; but the
citizens, as a standing jest, try to make the traveler
believe that these are the bones of the people killed in
the many wars of the state.

Now iet us turn to the most important state of the
La Plata, — the Argentine Republic. Some years ago
its southern boundary was the Rio Negro, and on the
farther side of this river was a country called Pata-
gonia. Recently Chile and the Argentine Republic
divided Patagonia between them. The Andes were the
dividing line. Chile took the territory to the west and
a strip extending from west to east, just north of the
Strait of Magellan. The Argentine Republic had the
rest. Patagonia disappeared.

With its increased territory, the Argentine Republic
is about the size of Mexico. It consists mainly of the
pampas, or Plains of the La Plata, although there are
some fine forests within its boundaries.

The pampas are covered with grass. One can ride
for miles and miles without seeing a tree or even a
bush. The grass when first springing up is of a clear,
bright green; but as it grows taller, it changes to a

258 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-s-o—

lighter, paler color. This is perhaps owing to the dust
which settles thickly upon it at some seasons of the
year,

In the eastern part of the Republic there is a rank
growth of thistles. The thistles and clover spring up
together; but the thistles soon outgrow the clover and
rise to a height of ten feet, offering a thick, close, im-
penetrable barrier to any one trying to pass through.
Later in the year they become thin and dry, and at last
fall to the ground and die. Then comes the spring with
the fresh clover and the new thistles, and the yearly
round begins again.

Any one riding across the plains finds them very
solitary at times. The only sound he hears is the occa-
sional cry of a partridge or a hawk. The tiny mounds
of the prairie dog dot the roadside here and there. Be-
sides the dog, a solitary owl or a pair of owls gener-
ally live in each of these underground houses. Some-
times the owls are seen solemnly standing, one on each
side of the doorway, guarding the house of their little
host and friend ; for the owl and the prairie dog really
do form a warm friendship. Here is one of many stories
that might be told illustrating that fact.

A party of hunters and their dogs were drowning out
a prairie dog’s home, and had just killed the little beast
himself. The owl, who had been hovering over their

heads, and uttering pathetic cries, on the death of its .

friend nerved itself for action. With a furious shriek,
it descended upon a terrier who had been most active
in the hunt, and, perched upon its head, it flapped. its
wings against the dog’s face and pecked it with its beak.

ng to the dust
seasons of the

there is a rank
over spring up
the clover and
thick, close, im-
) pass through.
Iry, and at last
the spring with
and the yearly

ids them very
ars is the occa-
he tiny mounds
and there. Be-
of owls gener-
houses. Some-
ig, one on each
> of their little
airie dog really
of many stories

e drowning out
| the little beast
ring over their

he death of its .

furious shriek,
en most active
1, it flapped. its
it with its beak.

or ete NE ab SEL Ce

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 259

--e--—

It was driven away; but half an hour later, while the
hunters were in a distant part of the farm, the bird
appeared and renewed its attack. It was wild with
grief and anger at the death of its small friend.

The plains of the Argentine Republic, like all the
plains of the La Plata, are used for grazing. Millions
and millions of horses, cattle, and sheep are herded
here. The herdsmen who look after them are a strange,
wild set of men. They are most magniticent riders, and
their horses are perfectly trained.

Once a company of circus riders came to Buenos
Ayres, and, after they had performed their usual re-
markable programme, a party of herdsmen rode into the
ring. They put their horses through the same antics
that the circus riders had performed, and exhibited
other feats that far excelled any that the professionals
had shown. The discomfited company sailed away to
Valparaiso, only to be again beaten on their own ground
by Chilean horsemen.

The herdsman of the Argentine Republic, who corre-
sponds to the American cowboy, is quite a picturesque
figure. He wears large, loose, embroidered trousers, a
wide sash wound several times about his waist, a broad-
brimmed Panama hat, and a poncho.

The poncho is a curious but very useful gavment. It
is a blanket of the usual size, with a hole in the centre
through which the head is thrust. The folds of the
blanket fall about the arms and the body down to the
knees. The arms of the rider are left free to handle the
reins. The poncho serves as a protection from the heat
of summer, the cold of winter, and sudden rainstorms.

260 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—~-@-0—

The best ponchos are of a light yellow color, and are
made of hair from an animal resembling the camel in
vhope. They are as soft as velvet and as firm as steel,

dos: for generations

“neh are the ancient ponchos; but to-day cheaper
«iments of cotton and wool are made abroad and
expo’: ’ to the valley of the La Plata. ‘These ponchos
answer every practical purpose, but they have not the
value of the ancient garments. The Indians greatly
covet the finer kind; and if the unsuspecting traveler
should wear such a one among them, they would not
hesitate to kill him in order to secure it.

The dress of the herdsman is often decorated with
large silver buttons; but it is in the ornamentation of
his saddle and bridle, that his true glory appears. Hun-
dreds of dollars are spent upon the silver mountings
and decorations of the saddle. Indeed, the saddle is the
herdsman’s bank; and, to keep it safe, he uses it as a
pillow at night.

His immense spurs are of solid silver, even if the man
himself goes barefoot. With his cigarette in his mouth,
his short knife in his hand, and his lasso coiled at the
pommel of his saddle, the Argentine ranchman is a wild,
daring figure as he passes at a full gallop.

His home is a rude mud hovel of but a single room.
There is almost no furniture. A horse’s skull forms

the only seat, unless you except the clay floor where .

the children sit or roll about. That little bundle

hanging against the wall in a hammock of hide is

the baby. :
All the children are very healthy, for they live simply

RI A ne de ee

Rad ita Wace

BS CERES NE BL Rr ee

ar A =

Gon

color, and are
y the camel in
s firma as steel,

to-day cheaper
de abroad and
These ponchos
y have not the
Indians greatly
vecting traveler
they would not

decorated with
namentation of
‘appears. Hun-
lver mountings
he. saddle is the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 261

—e oe

on meat and water: and, being continually out of doors
exposed to the tempests and all sudden changes of
weathei, they grow tough and hardy. As soon as a boy
can toddle, he is given a small lasso, which he practises
throwing at dogs and chickens. When he comes to be
four or five, he is lifted on horseback; and the rest of
his life he may be said to spend in the saddle. When
ten years old, he is of use in driving cattle.

One of the interesting sights on a ranch is the brand-
ing of the cattle. The herdsman singles out a steer, an
prepares to throw his lasso. This is a long line of ras
hide with a noose at the end. The man gallops a.:zr
the steer and, as he approaches, with unerring aim he
throws the lasso, which instantly catches the fore | -s
of the beast and brings him to the ground. A secoud
‘anchman on the other side casts a lasso about the ani-
mal’s head, and it is then powerless to defend itself.

he uses it as a The hot iron is brought and forced against the shoul-
der. The brand of the owner is so burnt into the skin
that it remains upon the hide even after the animal has
been slain.

Sometimes an ox is lassoed by the horns or by the

even if the man
te in his mouth,
;o coiled at the

Rana ita Walaa

echman is a wild,
p.

, a single room.
e’s skull forms

fore legs; but whatever may be the aim of the hunter,
he always hits the mark.

The bolas is another instrument by which the herds-
man brings down the cattle. It consists of two balls of

lay floor where . , iron or lead connected by a leather thong about eight

it. little bundle feet in length. The bolas is swung round the head, and

ock of hide is then launched at the horns or legs of the animal. It i
t winds around him so that he is powerless to escape the

they live simply i

ranchman.

EMBER C85

262 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eee

It is said that the herdsmen of the La Piata are the
finest horsemen in the world. And they may well be
so, for they eat, sleep, and spend most of their lives in
the saddle. Then too, they are always racing with one
another and playing games on horseback that are often
very harmful to the horses.

There is one game called “crowding horses” which
is terrible. Two ranchmen wheel off to a distance, and
then ride furiously at one another, meeting with so
terrible a shock that one or both of the horses is killed.
But the men do not care. They merely remove their
saddles to other horses and continue their amusement.

This gives you an idea of the number, and conse-
quently small value of horses in the valley of the La
Plata. A fine pair of carriage horses can be bought
for one hundred and fifty dollars, and a saddle horse
for forty. ;

‘very one rides here. The menservants and maid-
servants have each their steeds as a matter of course.
This is the country where the old nursery jingle, “If
wishes were horses, then beggars might ride,” really
comes true. Here wishes are horses, and the beggars do
ride.

It is no unusual thing for the traveler to be stopped
by a man on horseback. He is naturally a little star-
tled at first, but recovers his self-possession on hearing
the supposed brigand whine out, while extending his
palm, “ A little money, kind sir, for the love of Heaven;
I have eaten nothing for a whole day.”

' The horses are made to serve in unusual ways. They
tread mud for bricks, and thrash out corn. A man in-

+ horses” which
a distance, and
leeting with so
horses is killed.
ly remove their
ir amusement.
ber, and conse-
alley of the La
can be bought
aw saddle horse
ants and maid-
atter of course.
sery jingle, “If
it ride,” really
l the beggars do

er to be stopped
lly a little star-
sion on hearing
» extending his
ove of Heaven ;

al ways. They
un. A man in-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 26%

tending to spend the morning in fishing, saddles his
horse and hastens away to the chosen stream, There
he rides into the water, and, baiting his hook, calmly
fishes from the back of his patient steed for hours.

The dairyman churns butter by means of his horse.
He puts the cream into a leather bag, which he fastens
by a thong to his saddle. Then he springs upon his
horse, and canters off to the city six miles away over
the pampas. The bag meanwhile bounds and bouaces
along the road behind him. When he reaches the city,
he is able to sell butter to his customers; for the jounc-
ing ride has turned the cream in the hide into delicious
fresh butter.

You might easily guess what the chief exports from
the Argentine Republic are. They all come from the
pampas, and are as follows: mutton, beef, tallow, hides,
and horns.

Much of the meat sent to Europe is frozen. The
oxen are quartered, but the carcasses of the sheep are
left whole. Both are hung up in buildings, the tem-
perature of which is kept below the freezing point.

After a few weeks the meat is thoroughly frozen.
It is then packed in the hold of a ship which has been
specially prepared for its reception. The hold is ar-
ranged with layers of felt and double walls, so that an
even, cold temperature may be preserved throughout
the voyage. Although the ship passes the equator and
remains many days in the tropics, the meat reaches the
European market in perfect condition.

The merchants who manage this branch of trade meet
with great success. They say that here on the pampas

264 THE WORLD ANO ITS PEOPLE.

there is food enough raised to supply the whole of
Europe.

The Argentine Republic has often been likened to our
own country. Itis one of the most enterprising nations
in South America; it has built many miles of railroads ;
and, when studied by districts, it bears a curious resem-
blance to the United States.

The northern districts raise cotton, rice, corn, and
sugar cane, like our Southern States. Wheat and other
grains can be raised in the southern districts, which cor-
respond to our Dakotas and Minnesota, Altogether
many close resemblances besides the form of government
can be discovered.

Buenos Ayres has one of the worst harbors in the
world. It is so shallow that no vessels can sail near
the town. They are obliged to anchor six miles from
shore; then large boats called lighters come to transfer
passengers and cargoes to the land.

Sometimes the water is so shallow that even the
lighters cannot approach the wharves. Then ox carts
are driven out for a mile or so into the river to meet
the lighters. There, while the water rises high about
the wheels of the carts and the legs of the long-suffering
animals, the cargo is transferred from boats to carts, and
thus brought to shore. Occasionally indignant mules,
pulling loaded carts to shore, are seen with all but their
noses and ears covered with water.

The depth of the harbor changes with the changing of
the wind. When the east wind blows, the harbor is
flooded. When the pamperos come sweeping down from
the Andes, the water of the harbor is blown out to sea.

PS cea ee le ne

the whole of

likened to our
prising nations
es of railroads ;
curious resem-

rice, corn, and
‘heat and other
icts, which cor-
. Altogether
of government

harbors in the
; can sail near
six miles from
me to transfer

that even the
Then ox carts
river to meet
ises high about
: long-suffering
ts to carts, and
dignant mules,
th all but their

the changing of
. the harbor is
ying down from
ywn out to sea.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 265

—eae

Large ships have to shift their anchorage with nearly
every change of the weather vane.

But, once ashore, the traveler cannot fail to admire
Buenos Ayres. The wide streets are parallel through-
out the city, and are laid out at right angles with one
another. There are theatres, hospitals, churches, public
libraries, and museums.

The banks and many of the business buildings are
truly magnificent. The banks are built of marble, and
are adorned with great marble columns, which cause
them to resemble palaces, rather than buildings for the
transaction of business.

All the modern improvements are here, such as the
telephone and the electric light. American newspapers
are readily obtained, and * Harper's Magazine” and
“The Century” can be bought at any large bookstore.
The citizen of Buenos Ayres prides himself on his
knowledge of the United States, its growth, and. its
polities.

You may travel the length and breadth of South
America and find no city so much like a city of the
United States as Buenos Ayres. Here the people are
really in a hurry; they seem to realize the value of
time; and business is actually transacted in Buenos
Ayres on the appointed day, instead of being put off
through an endless succession of to-morrows.

The Argentine Republic has two provinces that are
not yet thoroughly explored, — one to the north, and the
other te the south. The northern province is El Gran
Chaco, and the southern is the region formerly known
as Patagonia.

266 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

El Gran Chaco is a wonderfully rich district, if all
the reports of it are true. It abounds in rich forests
and plains, and has valuable stores of gold, silver, and
diamonds.

Patagonia is a great contrast to El Gran Chaco. It was
not worth the trouble that Chile and the Argentine Re-
public took to secure it. The northern part of Patagonia
consists of grazing lands, but the southern part is a
dreary desert, inhabited only by the ostrich and a queer
little species of antelope which is hunted for its skin.

The Patagonian Indians, before the division of their
country between two civilized nations, often made raids
into the Argentine Republic. They would drive their
cattle northward as winter came on, and, leaving them
feeding in the sheltered valleys of the Andes, would
attack the ranches, steal the cattle, and send the ranch-
men flying in terror to the capital. Year.by year they
penetrated farther into the Republic.

At last, the president resolved to bear this no longer.
He had a wide, deep trench dug across the way by
which they would return home. Then mounted ranch-
men were sent to drive them back across the border.
The poor Indians, riding at a gallop, fell into the
trench and were killed or wounded. The few who
escaped this terrible death were taken prisoners. So
these border raids ceased.

The Indians of Old Patagonia are of two classes, —
the Patagonians, or Horse Indians, and the Canoe Indi-
ans of Terra del Fuego. The latter dwell in Chilean
territory, and their many curious habits will be described
in the next chavter.

ibid satiny

silane a

i
i
]
j

h district, if all
; in rich forests
gold, silver, and

n Chaco. It was
e Argentine Re-
art of Patagonia
thern part is a
‘ich and a queer
l for its skin.

livision of their
ften made raids
uld drive their
d, leaving them
» Andes, would
send the ranch-
ar .by year they

this no longer.
ss the way by
mounted ranch-
oss the border.
, fell into the
The few who
prisoners. So

two classes, —
the Canoe Indi-
well in Chilean
ill be described

lah

aintavailcarnaeisas

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 267

_—-so

The Horse Indians are very tall and strong. The
old voyagers used to say that Patagonia was inhabited
by “menne of that biggeness that it seemed the trees of
the forests were uprooted and were moving away.”
This was exaggerated, of course, although nearly all
the Indian braves are six feet in height. Their oecu-
pation consists in tending their herds of cattle, and in
hunting ostriches, sometimes for meat, but oftener for
feathers.

The South American ostrich, called the Rhea, differs
from the African in a few points of anatomy and in
having brown feathers tipped with white, while the
African ostrich’s feathers are gray. The Indians pursue
them on horseback and catch them by using the bolas.
They do not kill the birds unless they need food, but
merely pluck the valuable feathers.

The eggs are always relished by the Indians. One
egg contains as much meat as ten hen’s eggs. Single
eggs are often found upon the sand, but sometimes the
Patagonian discovers an ostrich’s nest, hidden beneath
a bush, in a deep hollow of the sand. As it contains
anywhere from ten to forty eggs, such a discovery is a
fortunate one.

Sometimes a nest of young ostriches is lighted upon.
The hunter is sure to kill them all, because the thirty
tiny speckled breasts, when made into a soft. warm,
beautiful rug, bring a good price in Punta Arenas, the
only town in all this territory. Steamers rounding Cape
Horn stop at Punta Arenas for coal, and the passengers
are delighted to purchase these rugs as mementoes of
the southernmost town in South America.

268 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a ot

The dress of the Patagonian is a single garment made
of the skin of the little antelope. His food is very
simple, consisting of the meat of the horse and the
ostrich, and ostrich eggs. He lives ina tent, although
at some seasons of the year the weather is extremely
cold. He has no education whatever. You would
think this life miserable, but no doubt he is perfectly
happy and contented.

CHAPTER XXI.
BEYOND THE ANDES.

In the year 1895, a railroad running from the Atlan-
tic to the Pacific Ocean and crossing the lofty Andes,
will connect Buenos Ayres, the chief commercial city
of the Argentine Republic, with Valparaiso, the port of
Chile. Few can realize what thought, labor, sacrifice,
and life have been expended in the construction of this
‘ailroad.

The section of the line that crosses the Andes them-
selves is of course the most difficult part of the task.
Slowly the builders on both sides of the mountains are
approaching nearer and nearer, until at last the steel
bands will knit together, and the oceans will be linked
by an iron chain, the first which has stretched across
this continent.

For some years the whistle of the locomotive has
startled the grazing cattle on the pampas, as the train
from Buenos Ayres to Mendoza went whizzing by.

—_——-

inate destinadlaccahiaa’

|
|
|

> garment made
is food is very
horse and the
, tent, although
or is extremely
. You would
he is perfectly

rom the Atlan-
1e lofty Andes,
ommercial city
iso, the port of
labor, sacrifice,
ruction of this

ie Andes them-
it of the task.
mountains are
_ last the steel
will be linked
tretched across

ocomotive has
as, as the train
| Whizzing by.

——— or

iit ealieathcaS

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 269

But at Mendoza, at the foot of the Andes, the trains
stopped. Any adventurous traveler who wished to
cross the Andes, must hire a guide and mules with
which to proceed on his way.

Let us suppose that we are setting out on such a five
days’ journey up and over the huge backbone of South
America.

The little cavaleade moves briskly off. First in the
procession comes the bell mule, which all the other
mules follow; then three extra mules to be used to
relieve the others; then the pack mule, poor fellow,
with blankets, canned meats, preserves, and other neces-
sities strapped upon his back and jutting out at many
curious angles. The guide follows the pack mule, and
the travelers bring up the rear.

The pack mule seems to be a lively fellow. He is con-
tinually straying from the path to crop some tempting
bit of herbage. ‘The sorely tried guide has to pursue
him and bring him back to the path of duty. Then the
burdens have to be readjusted; and, to keep the mule
quiet while this new arrangement is being completed,
the guide throws his poncho over the animal’s head.

A mule thus muffled is a comical sight to those who
look on. But the sudden darkness that has descended
over him is no laughing matter to the mule. He stands
very still, and, after the light of day is again restored,
he goes on quite soberly for a time.

The dress of the guide resembles that of the ranch-
men of the pampas. It consists of a wide-brimmed Pan-
ama hat tied under the chin, a large blanket, or poncho,
wide trousers, leather gaiters, and enormous silver spurs.

270 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The saddle is made up of many layers. Tirst, come
several sheepskins, upon which is settled the wooden
framework of the saddle. To this are attached the stir-
rups, while over all are thrown several more sheepskins.

We can tell by the trappings of his mule that our
guide is poor; for, if he were rich, the outer layer of his
saddle would be a fur rug, and, instead of having
clumsy wooden stirrups weighing as much as five
pounds, his stirrups and part of his bridle would be of
silver.

The bit for the mule is tremendously large and heavy.
It weighs fully five pounds, and a reckless jerk might be
enough to break the poor animal's jaw. Fastened to the
reins is a long whiplash, which is of use when we meet
a drove of cattle coming down the mountain side. A
few stinging blows of this lash induce the slow, heavy
beasts to keep their distance. ;

It is hardly safe to cross the Andes between April
and October. Only mail carriers venture to cross dur-
ing those months, on account of the danger from the
storms and avalanches. December and January are the
safest months for traveling,

The trail is not thiough an unpeopled desert as it
once was. Every tsvcnty miles or so there are railroad
camps, full of the e:nployees of the company which is
laying the line.

These camps are mostly very wretched. Here is one
situated on a sterile, brown plain, surrounded by tower-
ing mountains whose sides are as dry and brown as the
plain below. The village is composed of a few dwelling
houses, a brick oven, where most of the cooking is done,

's. ‘irst, come
ed the wooden
tached the stir-
ore sheepskins.
mule that our
iter layer of his
ead of having
much as _ five
lle would be of

ge and heavy.
s jerk might be
“astened to the
when we meet
ntain side. A
he slow, heavy

between April
‘e to cross dur-
nger from the
anuary are the

l desert as it
re are railroad
pany which is

. Here is one
ded by tower-
| brown as the
a few dwelling
oking is done,

Sa RU i at tion

5 itn we oll ane aa tea alt I

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 271

and a miserable store, where meat and liquor can be
bought. The one-story houses are of stone or clay, and
are roofed with iron. There are no comforts, and barely
the necessities of life.

Everything, even to the fodder for the horses, must
be brought by mules over the mountains. Magazines
and newspapers are highly prized by the few well edu-
cated engineers, who lead a lonely life in these villages,
where the population consists only of rough workmen
and a few Indian women and children. Travelers are
always very welcome, and are treated to the best the
place affords.

You would scarcely believe that, in ascending the
Andes, the traveler would ride for a whole day through
a district resembling nothing so much as the desert of
Sahara. Not a single bit of green is seen. The sun
blazes overhead ; the rocks glow like molten lava; the
dry, hot wind lifts the sand and flings it against his
face. His lips parch, his skin burns, and his eyes grow
bloodshot. He longs for water, and the sound of the
fresh river, roaring through caverns far below, only
increases his thirst.

Another stage of the journey brings us to several
rivers. Owing to recent rains, they are oftentimes
swollen so dangerously that the traveler now may have
more than enough of the water which he yesterday so
earnestly desired.

Narrow planks form the only bridge, but the mul
cannot cross on them. The guide pushes the mu!
into the stream one by one, and they swim bravely 01

Then into the wilderness we pass again, highe:

bo
1
bo

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

even higher. But climb as persistently as we may, the
mountains still loom above us, and darken the day by
their gloomy shadows.

The way is unutterably lonely, too; only the regular
telegraph poles give us confidence by assuring us. that
man has been here before. No sound is heard save the
tinkle of the mule bell or the scream of the condor.
The skeletons of oxen and horses lie along the road,
and in some places the condors are feeding on their
dead bodies. These birds are always fluttering and
wheeling over the most dangerous passes, as if waiting
for some unfortunate mule and his rider to go tumbling
down the precipice.

The mule displays wonderful sagacity throughout
the journey. He sets down his foot so cautiously, and
holds to the scantiest foothold so tenaciously, that again
and again the traveler blesses the sure-footed animal he
rides.

Once two trains of travelers met in a dangerous
place, where the mules could not pass one another.
The mute upon which one of the guides was seated,
turned round in a space about a foot and a half wide
and retraced hfs steps until he reached a place of safety.
There he waited until the other train had passed, before
resuming his own journey.

The single charge the guide gives the traveler is not

to jerk the bridle when in danger, but to let the mule.

act according to its own instincts. Every one will be
safe then. In the lowlands the guide often abuses his
mules and speaks roughly to them, but among .the
mountains his manner is entirely changed. He here

‘|

PUN eS Pee ettceeneetee cn fonte

LE.

y as we may, the
rken the day by

only the regular
assuring us that
s heard save the
1 of the condor.
along the road,
feeding on their
s fluttering and
es, as if waiting
' to go tumbling

city throughout
» cautiously, and
ously, that again
ooted animal he

in a dangerous
SS one another.
des was seated,
ind a half wide
v place of safety.
id passed, before

e traveler is not

to let the mule.

very one will be
often abuses his
but among .the
gec. He here

saints iia
PAUEN GS ree eteeencaee co even:

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 273

speaks to them in a soft, gentle tone, and they seem to
enjoy the confidence which he places in them.

Dear, brown-coated, long-eared animals! They are a
great deal better than they seem, or than the guide
would let you suppose. The least that can be said in
their favor is that they return good for evil.

The guide prefers that the highest part of the crossing
should be made in the morning, as storms often arise
in the afternoon.
the divide of the Atlantic and Pacific slopes, which is
fully twelve thousand feet high.

Some people, and even some mules, cannot endure the
thinness of the air at this height, and, on being seized
with violent bleeding of the nose or lungs, are obliged to
hurry down the mountains. If they should vorsist in
continuing their journey, they might die.

None of our party are thus afflicted; and ve cross
the watershed in safety, gazing with awe at the snowy
summits and sides of the lofty mountains and at the
many overhanging avalanches. Along the pathway are
many rude, unfurnished caves, which have been erected
as places of refuge for the mail carriers in times of
sudden storms.

Sometimes a mail carrier is snowed up in one of
these caves for weeks. He remains until his food is
exhausted, when, though encountering great risks, he
attempts to descend to the lower world once more.
Sometimes he succeeds, but often he loses his way and
perishes in the snow.

And now the beautiful panorama of the western side
of the Andes opens before us. We hasten down the

This morning’s ride takes us over

274 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

—-f-o—

steep descent and find ourselves in the little Chilean
town of San Rosa de los Andes. From this place we
may go by rail directly to Santiago, the capital of Chile,
and thence to Valparaiso, the chief seaport.

The Chileans say that they are the Yankees of South
America. So to show their Yankee

A RAILROAD BRIDGE IN CHILE.

spirit of energy and acquisition, they recently engaged
in a war with Peru and Bolivia. Peru was beaten, and
the Chileans extended their narrow strip of territory
several degrees northward, taking in all the coast of .
Bolivia and a little of the coast of Peru.

Then, by a peaceable division of Patagonia with the
Argentine Republic, Chile gained all the territory west
of the Andes, Tierra del Fuego, and a bit of land north

LE,

he little Chilean
m this place we
capital of Chile,
Or't.

‘ankees of South

ecently engaged
was beaten, and
rip of territory

all the coast of .

agonia with the
ie territory west
it of land north

ie aa ten = Ae SRO SP

alba

—— rr

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 275

a oe

of the Strait of Magellan. It is said that Chile wants
to conquer that section of Bolivia and Peru that will
give her the control of the upper springs of the Amazon.
But at present she wisely remains content with her late
conquests, as well she may.

As some one has said, the map of Chile at present
“looks like the leg of a tall man, very lean, with a very
high instep and several conspicuous bunions.”

Chile is bounded on the east by the .Andes, and on
the west by the Pacific Ocean. Her northern boundary
runs well into the tropics, and her southern point, Cape
Horn, is covered with snow and ice the year round.
On account of its extreme narrowness Chile is not
usually considered a large country, but it is, in reality,
larger than any nation in Europe except Russia.

Chile has three regions, running more or less into one
another, and yet on the whole fairly distinct. Begin-
ning at the north, they lie as follows: the mineral
region, the agricultural region, and the region of
forests and fisheries.

The soil of the old coast of Bolivia is rich in nitrates,
and these with the guano of Peru are exported by
Chile. They bring in quite an annual income, and the
government is using this money to build men-of-war,

The agricultural district is included within a few
degrees of latitude. Chile consists of a long, central
valley lying between two parallel and lofty mountain
anges, the Andes and the Cordillera. Phe Cordillera
skirts the coast closely in northern Chile; but in south-
ern Chile the range has been broken up into sections.
The ocean has rushed in between these sections, and we

“ma EU

«a

276 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a oe

find remnants of the chain in the continvous line of
rocky islands that follow the coast.

The central valley of what is called agricultural
Chile was once.a chain of lakes, such as is found be-
tween the mountain ranges of southern Chile at the
present day. The water in the lakes to the north has
been drawn off by volcanic action, and the deposit which
the streams have brought down from the hills to the
lakes is exposed. This makes a few fertile places, but
generally irrigation has to be resorted to in order to
improve the very poor natural soil of Chile.

Irrigation is managed in this way. The farmers of a
certain neighborhood have a canal built. All along the
canal, sluiceways are made which let thirty-five cubic
centimeters of water per second pass off through channels
into the fields to the right or to the left. Each farmer
subscribes for one or more of these sluiceways.

He has a rough dam, which turns aside the water from
the channel that enters his field, upon his land, at a par-
ticular spot. When every inch of ground there has been
carefully watered, the dam is moved to another place, and
a second plot of ground is irrigated.

Fine fruits, particularly grapes, are raised in abun-
dance, and wines are made and exported. Some of the
Chilean wines go to Europe, but most of them are con-
sumed on the Pacific coast.

The agricultural district is also the region of many .

flourishing cities. There is space here to describe only

two, — Santiago, the capital of Chile, and Valparaiso,

its principal port.
Santiago is situated in the central valley of Chile, at

atinvous line of

led agricultural
as is found be-
mn Chile at the
to the north has
he deposit which
the hills to the
rtile places, but
to in order to
iile.
The farmers of a
, All along the
thirty-five cubic
hrough channels
t. Each farmer
eWays.
e the water from
is land, at a par-
d there has been
other place, and

raised in abun-
d. Some of the
f them are con-

region of many .

to describe only
and Valparaiso,

ley of Chile, at

ltt

j
;

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS.

to
Il
-]

one end of along, brown plain. Its climate is nearly
perfect. It rains four months of the year, but during
the remaining eight months the sun shines steadily with
a mild warmth that is very delightful.

The sunrises and sunsets on the mountains are won-
derfully beautiful. At early dawn the rosy light begins
to play on the summits of the Andes; then step by
step it creeps down the side of the mountain into the
valley, until the whole city and plain are bathed in the
morning glow.

The sunsets are even more beautiful; for sometimes
rainbow effect is produced, and lights of violet, blue,
green, and red tint all the hills.

The light seems to linger longest on the snowy crater
of Aconcagua, the highest voleano, not only of the
Andes, but of the Western Hemisphere. Aconcagua is
two thousand feet higher than the famous Chimborazo.
Its exact height is twenty-two thousand four hundred
and fifteen feet. No one has ever explored the summit,
which is covered with a perpetual coating of glaciers
and avalanches.

The city of Santiago is laid out as exactly as a
checkerboard. The streets are the dividing lines, and
the blocks of houses the squares. ‘The houses are built
low on account of the frequent earthquakes, and are
seldom more than one or two stories in height.

The first story is built of stone, and the second story,
if there is one, is of cane, plastered with mud and
stucco, and colored with various bright shades of rose,
blue, and yellow. Some recent houses have been built
of stone and brick, clamped together with iron braces.

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278 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—-s-o—

The houses of the wealthy are in the Spanis’; style, be-
ing built about square courts open to the sky.

The poor live either in tumble-down hovels in the
centre of the tawn, or in cane huts on its outskirts.
They have mud floors and very little furniture in their
houses, and live upon beans, bread, and onions. Water-
melons, which can be bought very cheap, are their only
luxury. Santiago might almost be called the city of
watermelons, as people can be seen eating them in pub-
lic daily, and the rinds are thrown everywhere.

In the centre of the city is the plaza. This large,
shady, grassy square has a bronze fountain playing on
the summit of a series of terraces covered with shade
trees and flowers. This ornamental centre of the plaza
is locked at night, so that the flowers may not be stolen
by the street boys. Thieving is one of the chief sins of
the nation, and the boys only follow the example which
their elders set them.

In the Peruvian war, the Chileans plundered the
Peruvians most unmercifully. They sent off to their
own country shiploads of statuary, bronze fountains and
lamp-posts, marble seats, finely wrought silver railings,
clocks, pianos, und furniture. And now the streets of
Santiago are enriched by the very treasures which once
adorned. Lima and Callao.

The plaza is the centre of the life of the city. It is
surrounded by the Cathedral, the Bishop’s Palace, the
City Hall, and a large number of shops and booths.

Early in the morning, women wrapped in black veils
can be seen hastening across the plaza to early mass,
A poorer class of women are Sweeping the crossings

LE.

Spanis’i style, be-
he sky.

yn hovels in the
on its outskirts.
urniture in their
onions. Water-
p, are their only
ulled the city of
ing them in pub-
ry where.

za. This large,
itain playing on
rered with shade
ntre of the plaza
ay not be stolen
the chief sins of
e example which

| plundered the
sent off to their
ze fountains and
t silver railings,
w the streets of
sures which once

the city. It is
op’s Palace, the
and booths.

ed in black veils
v to early mass.
g the crossings

emeeedeatens at ide

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 279

—s-o—

with willow brooms. On every street an impatient
crowd are gathered about the ‘cow station.” This is a
platform on which a cow stands to be milked, at the
request of any one who brings a cup or a bucket to be
filled.

At the time of morning mass large crowds of servants
are gathered about these stations, waiting for the daily
portion of milk for the families which they serve.
When one cow can give no more milk, another is driven
upon the platform. As the trade continues all day, the
owner of the platform must make considerable money.

Later in the morning cabmen stand by the plaza, in-
specting all who pass, in hopes of a fare. Peasants from
the country drive their heavy wooden carts through the
street. ‘These carts are drawn either by oxen or horses,
and are piled high with fruits and vegetables.

The fruits are of two zones, owing to the proximity
of Santiago to the mountains. One can buy strawber-
ries, grapes, figs, peaches, pears, quinces, plums, cher-
ries, oranges, lemons, and apples in the market place.
And we must not forget to add watermelons. After
the traveler has bought one, the market man or woman
sometimes kindly allows him to eat it beneath the shade
of the awning of the booth.

Donkeys often pass through the plaza laden with
clover which covers them completely, so that they
resemble moving haystacks. The street cars also start
here.

The street cars have seats upon the roof as well as
within the car itself. The seats on the roof are reached
by a stair winding up from the back platform. They

280 THe WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—e-f-o—

command the view, of course, and are, mereover, half
the price of an inside seat. The full fare is five cents.

The horse car conductor is, strange to say, a woman.
All the conductors in Chile are women. They under-
took this occupation when the men were away fighting
in Peru and have retained it ever since.

The conductor wears a neat navy blue suit, a wide-
brimmed straw hat, and a pretty white apron with
pockets for tickets and change. Above her stand, on
the rear platform, hangs a bag containing her luncheon,
extra tickets, and money. She fills her office with much
dignity and is, in every way, a success.

At night the plaza is liveliest of all. Gentlemen and
ladies promenade through the walks, the band plays,
and the shops exhibit their most tempting goods.

From eight to eleven in the evening is the time when
most of the shopping is done. The women trip over
from the plaza to inspect the stores and to buy beautiful
laces, diamonds, and jewelry. The shops, which in the
middle of the day are dull and slow, are now thoroughly
awake and alive to trade.

Santiago has a very fine avenue for riding or prome-
nading. It is three miles long and six hundred feet
wide. Through the very centre of the avenue is a
wide walk, bordered with several rows of poplar trees,
and with statues of famous men dotting it here and

there. On each side of the central promenade is a.

driveway one hundred feet wide.

The poplar trees, which are seen throughout Santiago,
and particularly in this avenue, did not originally grow
in Chile, but were brought from the other side of the

Fes Oe eR Oe, ee

DPLE.

we, mereover, half
1 fare is tive cents.
2 to say, a woman.
nen. They under-
vere away fighting
ce.

blue suit, a wide-
white apron with
ove her stand, on
ning her luncheon,
Yr office with much
S.

. Gentlemen and
, the band plays,
ting goods.

x is the time when
women trip over
d to buy beautiful
ops, which in the
re now thoroughly

‘riding or prome-
six hundred feet
the avenue is a
s of poplar trees,
tting it here and

. promenade is a.

oughout Santiago,
t originally grow
other side of the

oN. oe

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 281

Andes. With them came, it is said, that strange disease,
the goiter, in which the glands of the neck are very
much swollen. Before the coming of the poplar, the
goiter had never been known in Chile.

A drive along this famous avenue is always pleasant.
Many fine residences line it on either hand. Among
the different styles of houses along the way, one singles
out gilded palaces, turreted Turkish residences, and
gloomy Tador buildings, that often look out of place in
a land of frequent earthquakes. One can so easily im-
agine all those splendid piles falling and becoming a
heap of magnificence. The low, broad Spanish house
looks more enduring, and therefore more suitable.

At one end of the avenue is Santa Lucia. This is a
great rock, which was once unutterably brown, barren,
and unornamental. A wealthy citizen of Santiago
spent his private fortune in improving it, and now it is
the most beautiful feature of the prospect.

It is laid out with gardens and walks, which wind up
to the summit. Here and there balconies and summer
houses are erected, commanding a pretty outlook; while
at the summit is a wide promenade and a small theatre

and chapel. From this hilltop, the view of the lighted:

city by night is one to be long remembered.

The Horticultural and Zodlogical Gardens are situated
at the other end of the drive. Chile brought an ele-
phant and two lions from Peru, to add to her zoological
collection. But the animals could not bear ‘the change
to a colder climate, and died.

Two hundred years ago, pirates thronged the high
seas, and frequent fights took place in the Spanish main

Er ream ins oe eatin Tt

982 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

between the high-decked galleons from Spain and mys-
terious black crafts which displayed a skull and cross-
bones on their flags. In those days it used to be safest
to build the capital city inland. That necessitated a
seaport city for the capital, and so it came to pass that
cities were built in pairs throughout South America.
Examples of this are La Guayra and Bogata, Callao and
Lima, Valparaiso and Santiago.

Valparaiso resembles the city of Bahia in being a two
storied town, one story being on the hills and the other
on the narrow strip of seashore at their base.

The harbor is large and deep, but is opened so widely
towards the north that for two months of the year it is
quite unsafe. Ifa breakwater could be built across the
mouth of the bay, it would render it one of the most
secure harbors on the Pacific coast. But such an under-
taking is impossible, as the water is over six hundred
feet deep.

Within the sheltering curve of the hills, on the clear,
blue waters of the Pacific, ships of every great nation,
except the United States, float serenely at their anchors.
The lighters and small boats of the harbor are very
busy helping load and unload the larger craft. The
wharves are fine, and the warehouses are of stone and
roughly decorated.

A dark range of mountains follows closely the cres-
cent outline of the bay. Many spurs, jutting from the
range toward the bay, have their sides and summits
thickly crowded with houses. The beach at the foot of
the hills is, in places, so narrow that there is room for
but one street. In other places the hills recede, leav-

-OPLE.

om Spain and mys-
a skull and cross-
it used to be safest
That necessitated a
, came to pass that
ut South America.
-Bogata, Callao and

sahia in being a two
hills and the other
.eir base.

is opened so widely
hs of the year it is
l be built across the
it one of the most
But such an under-
$s over six hundred

e hills, on the clear,
every great nation,
ely at their anchors.
he harbor are very
larger craft. The
s are of stone and

ws closely the cres-
’s, jutting from the
sides and summits
beach at the foot of
t there is room for
e hills recede, leay-

——_$r——. - arr ceternerreesinnennen

herein

ee ea en

i
,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 283

—et-—

ing space for three or four streets. This is, of course,
the commercial part of the town.

The homes of the people are on the hills, and are
reached by steam elevators, by stairways cut in the solid
rock, and by streets so steep and winding that one can

THE PLAZA OF VALPARAISO.

well believe the tradition which says that in laying them
out, the goat pathways were followed. .

One reaches the summits with panting breath, and
in descending from them, an alpenstock seems neces-
sary. When the wind blows, pedestrians cling to the
rocky sides of the way. Three horses are necessary to
draw a carriage into the upper town.

The houses upon three of the hills are pleasant and
well built. The poorer classes live upon the other hills.

284 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

me -

Their houses are mere makeshifts, as they are built of
driftwood, oil cans, sardine boxes, and anything that the
poor people can find with which to patch up a dwelling.

Valparaiso, viewed from the harbor, is very pictur-
esque. The houses appear to be perched so insecurely
upon the hills that a slight shock might throw them over.
By moonlight or by electric light, the city is enchanting.
The patches of light and shade are arranged fantasti-
cally, and the lights of the vessels near the mouth of
the harbor rise and fall with the motion of the dark
water.

You would feel quite at home in the city of Valpa-
raiso, as English is spoken by nearly every one. Eng-
lish merchants, booksellers, doctors, and grocers fill the
city. There are several English newspapers. In fact,
Valparaiso is, what the whole state of Chile is, an Eng-
lish colony. :

The native of Chile is very proud of the leading
place which his country holds among the other states of
South America. He thinks the United States the only
nation to compare with his. If you should tell him
that it is the English who make Chile an enterprising
nation, he would give you a terrible look out of his
haughty, Spanish eyes, and perhaps draw that murder-
ous Chilean knife, that he is only too ready to introduce
into conversation on the slightest pretext.

But it is only the truth that you have spoken. The
Chilean is incapable of any sustained effort, and the
persevering industry that has brought the country to
her present stand among the nations, has come from the
foreign elements of the English and the Germans.

OPLE.

s they are built of
d anything that the
atch up a dwelling.
bor, is very pictur-
srched so insecurely
‘ht throw them over.
e city is enchanting.
> arranged fantasti-
near the mouth of
notion of the dark

1 the city of Valpa-
ly every one. Eng-
and grocers fill the
wspapers. In fact,
of Chile is, an Eng-

nud of the leading
x the other states of
ited States the only
yu should tell him
hile an enterprising
le look out of his
draw that murder-
» ready to introduce
etext.

have spoken. The
ned effort, and the
ght the country to
, has come from the
and the Germans.

—_ ——_—— aa eer
:

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 285

—+ oo

Everywhere, whether as sheep growers, owners of mines,
or managers of large estates in the south, or as mer-
chants and professional men in the cities, they are the
leaders, and the ones who are moulding the nation.

The people of Chile are boastful and careless. Their
shops are in utter confusion, and, in the large and yalu-
able public library, the books are placed on the shelves
with no attempt at classification.

They are very cruel by nature. ‘They are most deadly
foes on the battlefield; but their extreme cruelty is
most commonly seen in their treatment of their horses.
A horse is very cheap, it is true, but even that does not
excuse his master for driving him until he drops dead.

Although the climate of Chile is like that of Wash-
ington, with many bleak and chilly days, a fire is never
lighted in the homes of the people. They think it
unhealthy. They go about thickly muffled in robes and
overcoats, and, in most of the rooms, there are kept large
foot warmers of wool and silk, into which the ladies slip
their feet when seated.

The Chileans have blue noses and chattering teeth
through several months of the year, but they seem to
enjoy it. If they enter the parlor of a European, and
find a blazing fire, they will leave the door open and
create a draught in which they can sit and shiver.

Leaving now the agricultural and thickly settled
portion of Chile, we enter the third region. Here the
central valley is broken up into many lakes and bays.
Fish are consequently plentiful, and many forests of
fine timber skirt the edges of the water and the foot of
the hills. There is, besides, an abundance of coal.

eee eT ea a

286 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

The islands of the coast are as yet unexplored, but
they are believed to be of great wealth. Seals throng
the shore, and the seal fishing is beginning to be profit-
able.

The Strait of Magellan is one of the most dreary and
desolate places on the face of the earth, Lofty, snow-
covered mountains tower on all sides of the strait.
Sometimes the glaciers and snowdrifts can be plainly
seen upon their sides; and then, again, dark clouds
and mists hide them completely from sight. Sea cap-
tains dread the passage of this strait exceedingly, on
account of its many cross currents and frequent storms.

There are one or two objects which show to the pass-
ing vessel that man has been here before. One is the
post box. That is a tin box, fixed at a well known point
of the northern coast, where letters, books, and papers,
which have been read by the crew of.one ship, are left
for those of another. Each passing ship stops to leave
mail for others and to get its own. Then, again, one
sees a tree covered with wooden signs bearing the names
of the vessels that have passed by.

The Indians who live in Tierra del Fuego are
among the lowest people on the face of the globe.
They are repulsively ugly and have very little intelli-
gence. Although their climate is exceedingly cold all
the year round, they have very scanty clothing. They
wear simply a blanket of otter skin, and their boots
and leggings are made of the same material. They row
out in their canoes to passing vessels, to trade skins for
whiskey and glass trinkets.

The good bishop of the Falkland Islands near by has

=OPLE.

yet unexplored, but
valth. Seals throng
ginning to be protit-

the most dreary and
earth. Lofty, snow-
sides of the strait.
rifts can be plainly
again, dark clouds
om sight. Sea cap-
rait exceedingly, on
nnd frequent storms.
sh show to the pass-
before. One is the
ta well known point
3, books, and papers,
of.one ship, are left
ship stops to leave
n. Then, again, one
ns bearing the names

ra del Fuego are
» face of the globe.
ve very little intelli-
exceedingly cold all
inty clothing. They
kin, and their boots
material. They row
ls, to trade skins for

l Islands near by has

intial nacararDaleiae sls. icc haa |

Te comes ee

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 287

--o-o—

made some attempt to civilize them, but he has been
able to accomplish very little.

Punta Arenas, the southernmost town in the world,
was established as a penal station. It is a cold, dreary,
stormy place, from which expeditions for hunting the
ostrich set forth, and where farmers of the sheep plan-
tations buy their scanty stores.

CHAPTER XXII.
PERU AND BOLIVIA,

Peru and Bolivia are two of the richest nations on
the face of the earth, and yet to-day they are bankrupt.
Peru owes millions of dollars that she will never pay,
because she cannot lay hands on her wealth. It is
locked fast in the hills, and needs the steel magnets of
railroads to draw the treasures of gold and silver from
their hiding places.

Hundreds of years ago, nearly all the ccuntry west of
the Andes was ruled by a royal family, known as the
Incas. They were a very superior race of Indians, of
remarkable energy and executive ability. At their
command, and by their directions, mines were worked,
great highways were built, rich and magnificent temples
were erected to their gods, and costly palaces were built
for themselves. A]l this was done with marvellous skill,
and with a display of riches such as the world will
never see again.

288 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

eee.

They were a peaceful, intelligent race, and their rule
was so excellent that it promised to be enduring. But
suddenly there burst into their peaceful valleys a band
of greedy, bloodthirsty men, who saw, with startled
eyes, the great wealth of the Incas, and determined to
possess it for themselves.

Then came a terrible time of robbery and murder.
No one can estimate the wealth that Pizarro and his
band found in Peru alone. It is said that he took
ninety million dollars worth of silver and gold just
from the temples. One of his lieutenants asked to have
the silver nails ina certain temple they were plunder-
ing. His request was granted, and he received several
hundred thousand dollars worth of silver.

The ruling Inca was captured, and Pizarro told the
Indians they might ransom him, if they would fill a
large room with gold. The faithful subjects did so;
but the faithless Spaniard took their gold and killed
their king.

The story of this period in the history of Peru and
Bolivia is both sad and terrible. Peru was subject to
Spain for nearly three hundred years. Then, in the
first quarter of the present century, she, with the other
Spanish colonies in South America, became independent.

When the boundaries of the new nations were settled,
General Bolivar, the George Washington of these colo-
nies, founded a new state, which was named Bolivia in
his honor. That this new state might have at least a
small piece of the seacoast, Chile gave up a little of her
territory to Bolivia. :

It seemed a worthless bit of desert land at the time,

;
:
|
:
:
:

PEOPLE.

t race, and their rule
o be enduring. But
aceful valleys a band
») saw, with startled
s, and determined to

robbery and murder,
that Pizarro and his
is said that he took
silver and gold just
tenants asked to have
» they were plunder-
1 he received several
silver.

and Pizarro told the
if they would fill a
hful subjects did so;
heir gold and killed

history of Peru and
Peru was subject to
years. Then, in the
y, she, with the other
, became independent.
vy nations were settled,
iington of these colo-
vas named Bolivia in
might have at least a
gave up a little of her

ert land at the time,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS 280

eee

but sixty years afterward vast deposits of nitrates, or
salts, of great commercial value were discovered. ‘Then
Chile repented her gift.

In order to get back that territory, she made war on
Bolivia, Bolivia called to Peru for aid. Peru responded,
and for several years war was waged between Chile on
one side, and Peru and Bolivia on the other.

The Chileans were terrible foes. They gave no
quarter and took no prisoners; but cut the throats of
the wounded, after the battle, with the short, sharp
knives that were always at their sides.

The horror excited in the minds of the Peruvian and
Bolivian soldiers by such ferocious deeds, led more than
anything else to their defeat. For they were defeated
at last, and Chile demanded that the coast of Bolivia,
and all the coast of Peru containing nitrate deposits,
should be given to her. She also demanded the guano
islands off the coast of Peru.

This was outrageous. Guano had been exported as a
fertilizer from Peru to the Old World for many years.
On the income derived from this product, the Peruvians
had been enabled to live for generations in perfect idle-
ness and luxury.

If the guano and the nitrates were taken, all their
means of support would be gone. Chile was robbing
Peru and Bolivia of their ready money. This must not
be, and both countries eried out against the national
robbery. But they were beaten. The Chilean was
within their gates; his knife was at their throats, and,
with a despairing glance and cry for help to the indif-
ferent and powerful nations looking on, they yielded.

290 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

And so it comes to pass that Pera is bankrupt.
First, she lost the wealth of the Incas; then, when the
guano was discovered, she felt so confident of a large
assured income, that, instead of wisely saving the
money from this source, she most recklessly spent it
all, and more, too. Lastly, the deposits of nitrates were
discovered; and then came war and the loss of every-
thing. Peru to-day is overwhelmed. She sits in the
midst of pillaged cities and ruined churches, helpless
and hopeless.

If Peru were a young and vigorous nation, she might
brace herself to meet her present difficulties; but she
is old, with none of the free and confident assurance of
a newborn country. Her people are luxurious and
unable to adapt themselves to their present condition.
What Peru now needs is new capital and new energy.
Bolivia is better off than Peru; for it is a young nation,
and has no very large debt.

By a recent contract, an English company is to com-
plete the railroads which are unfinished, to build new
railroads, to settle certain sections of the country, and
to free Peru from her enormous debt. In return for
this, the company is to receive the products of the mines
to which the railroads are extended for a period of sixty-
six years.

You may not think this a good bargain for the
English company; but it is likely to be an excellent
one. When once the railroads reach the mountains,
the mines will be opened and floods of silver and gold
will come pouring into their treasury. :

But now let us study the Peru of to-day. It includes

-OPLE.

Peru is bankrupt.
cas; then, when the
onfident of a large
wisely saving the
recklessly spent it
sits of nitrates were
d the loss of every-
d. She sits in the
1 churches, helpless

us nation, she might
difficulties; but she
nfident assurance of

are luxurious and
ir present condition.
tal and new energy.
it is a young nation,

company is to com-
lished, to build new
of the country, and
lebt. In return for
oducts of the mines
for a period of sixty-

od bargain for the
- to be an excellent
zach the mountains,
ds of silver and gold

ry. ;
f to-day. It includes

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 291

three regions, —the barren lowlands of the coast, the
mountains, and, beyond them, the table-lands where the
upper streams of the Amazon rise.

The lowlands of the coast consist almost entirely of
a barren, reddish brown soil. Here and there by the
shores of some stream there is a patch of green; but
nearly all the land which is used for agriculture must
be irrigated.

Between the fertile regions stretch sandy deserts, fre-
quently seventy miles in width. The sweeping winds
whirl up sand into the form of crescents at irregular
distances over the desert. The crescents are twenty
feet high, and are constantly shifting their positions as
the wind changes.

Sometimes the people in the villages bordering on
the deserts hear distant music, strange and monotonous.
It is the ceaseless sound that the particles of sand in
constant motion make as they strike one against another.

The streams that water the valleys of the coast are of
two kinds, temporary and permanent. The temporary
streams come from the Cordilleras, or coast mountains,
and the permanent streams from the Andes. Both are
fed by the melting of the snow on the summits of the
mountains.

The Andes are covered with snow all the year round,
and so their streams are always full. The Cordilleras
are lower mountains than the Andes. Their peaks do
not reach into the region of eternal snow, and so, in the
dry season, the streams flowing from the Cordilleras dis-
appear.

It scarcely ever rains in this region. It drizzles

hs SENNA SAB ERSTE

292 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

instead. The rainy season, so called, lasts from June to
September, and during that time the sun is seldom seen.
The days are damp and chilly, and the nights misty and
drizzly. The rain that falls is really more like a dew,
but a dew so heavy that the next morning the streets
are muddy.

You remember that, in the chapter on Chile, it was
said that the Spanish cities were apt to be built in pairs
—the capital being situated inland for safety, and a
smaller city being built on the coast to serve as its port.
Lima, the capital of Peru, and Callao, its port, have
been built in this way.

Callao is a discouraged city. Since the war its com-
merce and prosperity have flown to other places. The
government of Peru has sold the harbor to a French
company, who are making money by charging enormous
dues on all vessels entering the harbor. In consequence
of this, very few vessels come to Callao now. Where
once a hundred ships rode at anchor, now there are
scarcely a dozen. Very little business is transacted
on the wharves or near the empty warehouses. It
is hard times indeed for Callao.

There is a curious phenomenon connected with this
harbor. Just before entering port, sailors are accus-
tomed to make a special effort to polish up their vessels
to an unusual degree of whiteness. Then, with pride
in their hearts for their beautiful ship, they enter port.

The next morning after a ship has anchored in Callao
Harbor, the sailors are amazed to find their spotless ship
daubed from stem to stern, outside and inside; with a
brown film. If this is not scraped off immediately, it

EOPLE.

d, lasts from June to
» sun is seldom seen.
the nights misty and
lly more like a dew,
morning the streets

ter on Chile, it was
t to be built in pairs
d for safety, and a
, to serve as its port.
allao, its port, have

ice the war its com-
» other places. The
harbor to a French
y charging enormous
nore In consequence
‘allao now. Where
chor, now there are
isiness is transacted
pty warehouses. It

connected with this
t, sailors are accus-
olish up their vessels
s. Then, with pride
ship, they enter port.
1s anchored in Callao
nd their spotless ship
e and inside; with a
d off immediately, it

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 293

—o-o

clings to the woodwork so tenaciously that it can with
difficulty be removed.

This strange accident, which befalls every ship enter-
ing the harbor, is known as “the Callao painter.”
Who, or what is it? People used to believe that be-
neath the sea was an active volcano that threw up ashes
upon the vessels. But now it is known that the brown
film is sulphuretted hydrogen, a gas which is given off
from springs beneath the waters.

Callao contains nothing that is especially interesting ;
so we will hasten to take the train, which, in half an
hour’s time, brings us to Lima.

Do you know, my reader, I think you could describe
this city in many points quite as well as I could. From
what you have read before of Spanish cities, you would
know that in the centre of Lima is a large square, or
plaza, and that about it are situated the chief public
buildings, — the cathedral, the bishop’s palace, the gov-
ernment house, and the principal shops. You would
know that the streets are narrow and paved with peb-
bles, and that they are bounded on each side by low
houses with flat roofs.

Now let me add the few touches that will change
this general photograph of any Spanish city into the
special photograph of the Spanish city of Lima.

The plants and trees surrounding the bronze fountain
in the centre of the plaza are somewhat withered and
faded. They seem to be continually thirsting for a
drink of fresh water. The many little set paths of the
plaza are neatly paved with pebbles.

That low, broad, green and white building, occupying

re i rene

A NS

294 THE WORLD AND iTS PEOPLE.

one whole side of the plaza, is the Casa Vert, or the
green castle. It is the place where the Spanish gover-
nors used to live in the days when Peru was a colony.

The cathedral is a patchwork building. The lower
half is of marble yellowed with age, and the upper half
is of brick and stucco. The stucco is painted to rep-
resent marble so skilfully that the careless observer
would never guess the difference. The cathedral is
raised six feet from the ground on a marble platform,
and, with its Moorish towers and carved front, is a very
handsome building.

Within, the decorations are in white and gold, and
there are many little side chapels and shrines. The
bones of Pizarro, who was murdered in the Casa Vert,
can be seen in the crypt.

The roofs of the churches and houses in Lima are
covered with a thin layer of mud. ‘This prevents the
dampness from penetrating the building. As it never
rains in Lima, the earthen roof answers very well. But
imagine the effect of a hard shower! The startled
people of Lima would see their mud roofs and stucco
walls crumbling before their eyes, and perhaps washed
into the swift Rimac River, which runs through the
city.

Besides the flat roofs which serve as piazzas or
twilight promenades, the houses of Lima have oblong
balconies inclosed with glass. These balconies project
over the street at such regular distances that they
furnish the sidewalk with an almost continuous roof,
which must be very agreeable. ;

Everywhere in Lima are seen the marks of the Chil-

“eo

fi
4

PEOPLE. OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 205

he Casa Vert, or the
e the Spanish gover-
Peru was a colony.

building, The lower
e, and the upper half
‘co is painted to rep-
the careless observer
» The cathedral is
nm a marble platform,
carved front, is a very

white and gold, and
Is and shrines. The
red in the Casa Vert,
vy |
| houses in Lima are a meee HI iy
l. ‘his prevents the ni mit
uilding. As it never
swers very well. But
ower! The startled
mud roofs and stueco
,and perhaps washed
ich runs through the

serve as piazzas or
of Lima have oblong
‘hese balconies project
distances that they
most continuous roof,
STREET SCENE IN LIMA. i

the marks of the Chil-

ogg ERNE BT GEE EAPO

296 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—

ean cannon balls. Even the cathedral ‘tself is badly
marred. As for Casa Vert, that was regularly bom-
barded.

Most of the decorations of the streets and plaza were
carried away by the Chileans. Bronze and marble foun-
tains and statues, street lamps, trees and shrubs, lions
from the zodlogical gardens, even silver altar railings
from the churches disappeared. What they could not
take away they destroyed.

Since the war, the wealthy class have been living on
money obtained by pawning jewels, laces, and_bric-a-
brace.

If we should stand on one of the bridges across the
Rimac, and study the people about us for half an hour,
we should be amused and instructed. Within the many
angles of the bridge sit the fruit sellers. They have
delicious grapes, oranges, bananas, and peaches, which
ladies in black robes and mantillas, returning from
early mass in the cathedral, often stop to look at.

Who is this queer figure approaching us? He is the
baker. A square canvas pannier full of bread and
cakes is slung on each side of the donkey, and bags,
hanging from the pannier, contain extra supplies.

The woman who sells the milk next appears. Her
cans are strapped on each side of the saddle, and some-
times upon the saddle itself. The woman is often
perched high in the air above the cans. She wears a
broad-brimmed Panama hat like a man’s. When she
approaches a house, she gives a shrill call, and the ser-
vant comes running to the door.

Perhaps, if we lingered longer, we might see other

-OPLE.

‘ral ‘tself is badly
vas regularly bom-

eets and plaza were
ze and marble foun-
ss and shrubs, lions
silver altar railings
hat they could not

ave been living on
5, laces, and_ bric-a-

bridges across the
is for half an hour,
Within the many
ellers. They have
and peaches, which
AS, “returning from
yp to look at.
ing us? He is the
full of bread and
donkey, and bags,
<tra supplies.
next appears. Her
e saddle, and some-
e woman is often
cans. She wears a
man’s. When she
1 call, and the ser-

re might see other

oe ee a ne ee seen Re TTT RTCTTC TN man

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 297

curious sights. A Chinaman, bearing baskets of fruit
nicely balanced by a bamboo rod across his shoulders,
comes silently along. Black-eyed little newsboys race
across the bridge, calling out the names of their various
papers in liquid Spanish. Shabby men take their post
on the bridge and offer lottery tickets to the passers-by,
murmuring their generous offers in a dull, monotonous
tone. A water carrier, always an amusing sight, rides
slowly by. He sits so far back on his donkey that it
often seems as if he must fall off. Two casks, or bar-
rels, occupy the saddle.

The flat roofs of the country houses, situated in the
valleys west of the Andes, are not used as piazzas, like
those of the city houses. They are covered with grass,
and the cows or the hens live there all the time. The
cow goes up to the housetop as a calf, passes her life
there, is killed and brought down as fresh meat. The
hens strut about, lay eggs, cackle, and go to roost,
just as if they were living on the humdrum earth like
other barnyard fowls.

Though the highest part of the Andes is in the state
of Bolivia, yet the ranges in Peru are very lofty. The
best idea of these mountains is gained by going over
the Oroya railroad, which now runs to the summit of the
mountains. It is to be extended into the third region
of Peru, the region of the sources of the Amazon.

This Oroya railroad is a wonderful piece of engineer-
ing. The train zigzags up the mountain side, some-
times taking sharp, angular turnings, sometimes wind-
ing upward in long, sinuous curves. Now, five sec-
tions of the winding road are visible at once; and then

OT ne Te

298 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

again, it vanishes from sight, and the train seems to be
dashing against an impenetrable wall of rock.

A sudden turn is made, and all is darkness. We are
in a tunnel,cut through a spur of the rocky wall at an
immense cost of time, patience, and money. Presently
we enter the daylight again. One thousand feet below
is a section of the road over which we have come. It is
so directly below that, leaning from the window, we
might drop a stone upon the track. Now the cars cross
a chasm by means of a slender iron erection called a
bridge.

The whole ride is one long to be remembered, for the
mind is continually aghast at the great difficulties that
have been overcome in the construction of the road.

The region west of the Andes is an unbroken wilder-
ness, through which run many large streams and rivers.
So rapid and strong is the tropical growth there, that,
if a path should be made in the wilderness, in two
weeks’ time it would have entirely disappeared, choked
up by the weeds and the bushes. The only way to open
up the region is to set thousands of men at work there
for months at a time. Then perhaps a clearing might
be made and preserved.

The region would repay such effort, for it is exceed-
ingly rich in cinchona, caoutchouc, and coca trees, and
in palms. The leaves of the coca tree are chewed by
the natives. They produce a drowsy effect, like opium.
When the railroads are completed, it may be that
these articles will be brought down to the Peruvian
coast and exported. ;

The usual way of going from Lima to La Paz, the

PEOPLE.

the train seems to be
all of rock.
is darkness. We are
the rocky wall at an
d money. Presently
thousand feet below
we have come. It is
‘com the window, we
Now the cars cross
ron erection called a

remembered, for the
yreat difficulties that
ction of the road.
}an unbroken wilder-
e streams and rivers.
1 growth there, that,
. wilderness, in two
disappeared, choked
The only way to open
of men at work there
ips a clearing might

ort, for it is exceed-
and coca trees, and
tree are chewed by
sy effect, like opium.
ed, it may be that
wn to the Peruvian

zima to La Paz, the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 200

—.-e-e—

capital of Bolivia, is to take the steamer from Callao to
Mollendo. Mollendo is a little seaport town which
might be looked upon as the port, of Arequipa, the sec-
ond city ‘1 Peru. A yailroad starts from Mollendo,
passes through Arequipa, and terminates on the western
shore of Lake Titicaca.

The trip takes the traveler through deserts covered
with sand, pumice, and voleanie rock. Here and there
along the way isa green patch of country that is un-
speakably restful to eyes weary with the blazing white-
ness of the desert sand.

Arequipa is pleasantly situated on a green and fertile
plain. Its ruined streets and the large rents in the walls
of many of the houses show how violent the earthquake
shocks have been.

The people of South America have several names for
earthquakes, each a little stronger than the last. Thus
they can express with accuracy the exact intensity of
different shocks. Earthquakes vary from the merest
tremble to the yawning of the earth and the swallowing
of whole cities. Spanish America is full of terrible
stories of houses destroyed without a moment’s warn-
ing, and churches full of peo suried in an instant.

After leaving Arequipa, the .oad begins to climb the
mountains. Here, as well as on the Oroya railroad
from Lima, may be seen wonderful achievements of
engineering skill.

Flocks of rough sheep and ilamas appear on the
plains stretching away from either side of the car. The
llama is a curious animal about as large as a yearling
colt. Like the camel, he can travel for days and weeks

ie eee eee ee ne

300 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE,

2-2

without water. He is scarcely ever seen (o drink. His
feet are formed so as to cling most tenaciously to the
rocks, and he is thus enabled to pass surely over the
roughest and .most insecure places.

The llama is quite docile, and will carry one hundred
pounds upon his back over the mountains. If more
than one hundred pounds are strapped upon him, he
lies down, and refuses to budge until he is relieved of
the extra weight. The llama is covered with a warm,
shaggy coat of wool, which is never sheared if the ani-
mal is used as a beast of burden.

Lake Titicaca, the terminus of the road, is reached at
length, and we enter Bolivia. This republic may be
divided into halves. The western half is mountainous,
while the eastern half consists of high, well watered
table-land.

Eastern Bolivia has many valuable productions. In
which direction shall they be sent for exportation?
Shall they go northwesterly down the Amazon, and be
shipped from Peru; or southeasterly to Buenos Ayres ;
or westerly to the Pacific coast?

The Bolivians have now no seacoast, and to send their
products to the western coast would be to enrich the
Chileans, whom they hate. That they will not do;
and, as the eighteen rapids on the Madeira effectually
bar the way to the northeast, the natural route to take
seems to be that to the southeast across Argentine Re-
public. That state has recently awakened to the situa-
tion, and has sent men to survey the ground and project
a railroad from Argentine Republic into Bolivia. .

Western Bolivia contains the loftiest chains of moun-

OPLE.

seen (o drink. His
tenaciously to the
ws surely over the

carry one hundred
ountains. If more
ped upon him, he
il he is relieved of
vered with a warm,
sheared if the ani-

» road, is reached at
is republic may be
alf is mountainous,
high, well watered

le productions. In
t for exportation ?
he Amazon, and be
y to Buenos Ayres ;

st, and to send their
d be to enrich the
they will not do;
Madeira effectually
tural route to take
ross Argentine Re-
kkened to the situa-
ground and project
into Bolivia. .

est chains of moun-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 301

—-o-o—

tains in the whole Western Hemisphere. The Andes
here spread out into five distinct chains, and one partic-
ular range has one of the grandest series of mountain
peaks on the globe. First comes Mount Sorata, its
height of twenty-five thousand feet making it the lofti-
est mountain in the New World. A little to the south
rises [llimani Peak ; and thus the line sweeps on until
it reaches the giant sugar loaf of Potosi, the famous
silver mountain.

Between the mountain chains are parallel valleys,
mostly dry and barren. The valleys are drained by
rivers which do not reach the sea; but, instead, lose
themselves in salt lakes or salt marshes.

Lake ‘Titicaca is the largest of these mountain lakes.
It is also the largest and highest salt lake in the world.
It seems very wonderful to come upon a large sheet of
green water twelve thousand feet above the sea.

Small steamers navigate it, and run from port to port.
The lake is shallower on its western shore, so steamers
cannot be loaded in the harbor on this side. They
anchor at some distance from land, and the rude canoes
of the native Indians speed back and forth with the
cargoes.

While sailing on the northern half of Lake Titicaca,
we may lose sight of land; but in the southern half, the
shore is always in sight. And an odd shore it is. On
one side we pass the ruins of ancient temples of the
Incas, and on the opposite shore are mud and bamboo
villages. But above all, and always giving an unutter-
able dignity to the landscape, is the magnificent range
of the Andes.

802 THE WORLD AND (TS PEOPLE

The Iniians locate the garden of Eden, the home of
Adam and Eve, on an island in the lake. They say that
Father Adam and Mother Eve rowed from this island
to the mainland. Once landed, they walked northward
bearing a golden staff. When they reached a certain
spot, they smote the ground with the golden staff, and
told the awe-struck Indians to build their capital city in
that spot. And so Cuzco was founded.

Landing on the southern shore of Lake Titicaca, we
set out by coach over one of the old Inca roads for La
Paz. This city has a curious situation, There are two
valleys opening into each other. The first is dry and
barren, the second is fertile. Of course any one would
expect to find the city built in the fertile spot; but no,
La Paz is situated in the barren valley, because some
pope, who did not understand the geography of the
region, chose the first valley in preference to the second.

The city nestles at the foot of an abrupt descent of
twelve hundred feet. The level surface of the plateau
of Lake Titicaca, over which we have driven, is broken
just at this point. To approach the edge of the plateau
and look downward upon the housetops of a city, when
you had not believed there was one within miles, is sur-
prising, to say the least.

Speaking of housetops, — there is not a chimney in
La Paz. Although the weather is often quite cold, the
people do not wish to heat their houses. The food is
cooked by outdoor fires, which are laid against » wall
and sheltered by a light roof.

La Paz is unlike other Spanish cities in having but
half a cathedral. Only one story is completed, but that

EOPLE

Eden, the home of
lake. They say that
ed from this island
y walked northward
y reached a certain
he golden staff, and
| their capital city in
led.

{f Lake Titicaca, we
1 Inca roads for La
ion. There are two
The first is dry and
urse any one would
fertile spot; but no,
villey, because some
2 geography of the
rence to the second.
n abrupt descent of
‘face of the plateau
ve driven, is broken
edge of the plateau
tops of a city, when
within miles, is sur-

is not a chimney in
ften quite cold, the
ouses. The food is
laid against » wall

cities in having but
completed, but that

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 808

is so beautiful that every observer regrets that lack of
funds have obliged the Bolivians to leave it unfinished,

Whether he is pausing in the plaza before the cathe-
dral, or visiting the market with its piles of Panama hats
and ponchos, its fruits and vegetables, the thoughts of
the traveler continually turn toward the remote golden
age of the Incas, and the early days of the colony,
That seems the real time, and these days of poverty
the shadow,

Listen to this bit of history which sounds like a fairy
tale. “In 1661 La Palata, the viceroy, rode from the
palace to the cathedral on a horse every hair of whose
mane and tail was strung with pearls, whose hoofs were
shod with shoes of solid gold, and whose path was paved
with ingots of solid silver.” Isn’t that splendor? And
it only happened about two hundred and thirty years ago,
Truly these days of poverty must seem very hard to
poor, unlucky Peru and Rolivia, that still keep such
proud recollections of their splendid past.

We can only, in leaving, wish them brighter days for
the future.

CHAPTER XXIII.
IN ECUADOR AND COLOMBIA.

We are once more in the heart of the Torrid Zone.
The equator passes directly through Ecuador, and, on
that account, the state was given the Spanish name for
equator.

304 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

— eo

The coasts of both Ecuador and “olombia are low
and sandy » marshy. The healthiest and most popu-
lous regions are on the plateaus among the mountains.
Even though the blazing sun shines directly overhead,
the great height of the plateaus makes them cool.
Quito, the capital of Ecuador, and Bogota, the capital
of Colombia, are situated on these table-lands, and there-
fore have delightful climates.

Guayaquil, situated on the Gulf of Guayaquil, is the
seaport of Quito. There is nothing very new or un-
usual about this city. The houses are of bamboo and
stucco work, chiefly in white and yellow. The lower
story of many of the houses is used as a store, in which
excellent articles are often displayed for sale.

Quito is one hundred and fifty miles from Guayaquil.
Some of the journey can be made by train, but much of
the way must be traversed on mules. .

Oh, that mountain trip! If by any chance you cease
pitying yourself, you straightway begin to pity the
wuimal on which you ride. He stubbornly pushes on
his way, wading mountain torrents, stepping cautiously
along by the side of precipices, crossing bamboo bridges
that tremble beneath his tread, scrambling through or
sticking fast in marshes.

The road, which consists of an endless succession of
holes about one foot deep, into which and out of which
the poor donkey steps painfully, now enters a forest, —
a perfect South American jungle, such as we have often
glanced into before. But the creepers in this forest on
the road to Quito are something very unusual. They
wave from tree top to the ground, they run in parallel

PEOPLE.

inl Solombia are low
thiest and most. popu-
among the mountains.
nes directly overhead,
us makes them cool.
d Bogota, the capital
table-lands, and there-

If of Guayaquil, is the
ling very new or un-
es are of bamboo and
l yellow. The lower
«las a store, in which
ed for sale.

niles from Guayaquil.
by train, but much of
eS. .

any chance you cease
y begin to pity the
stubbornly pushes on
s, Stepping cautiously
ssing bamboo bridges
scrambling through or

endless succession of
ich and out of which
ow enters a forest, —
uch as we have often
spers in this forest on
very unusual. They
they run in parallel

:
4
t
i
4
d
4
i
4
:

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 805

—e2o—

lines along the way, they braid and festoon the trees
and bushes together. Then, here and there in the mass
of green, is seen a beautiful red flower, an orchid perhaps,
with all the singularity of shape and delicacy of color
that orchids possess.

Sometimes the journey to Quito is made by coach.
The coach is like the New England stagecoach, and is
drawn by three pairs of mules. The native drivers are
not satisfied unless they are kept at a full run. To
accoriplish this, the drivers are continually shouting,
blowing their horns or bugles, and whipping the poor
beasts.

They carry two kinds of whips. There is a whip of
ordinary length for the nearest pair, and a long-handled
whip for the middle pair. The leaders are so far away
that they cannot be reached with a whip. Instead, they
are peppered and pelted with stones, which are kept in
a box beside the driver.

If the coach is approaching a hill and the mules seem
to be flagging, the driver dismounts, and, running beside
them, cheers, scolds, and whips the poor, bleeding, pant-
ing beasts back into their former pace.

Quito is situated in a long, narrow valley, which runs
northward from Peru to Colombia. This valley, which
lies between two ranges of the Andes, is really an ele-
vated plateau two miles high.

There are as many as twenty volcanoes within sight
of Quito. The peaks of some resemble ‘cones, while
those of others are like domes. Chimborazo and Coto-
paxi are the most famous volcanoes. Chimborazo is a
snow-covered dome, with here and there a bare spot

$e RRERINTAD NET oT I

Eee PNT A A EDTA RISER OLE

306 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

on its sides from which the wind has sept the snow.
Cotopaxi is a perfect cone.

The meadews about Quito are green and velvety
enough for England itself. The hedgerows which sep-
arate the fields add to the English look of the scenery.

The streets are neatly paved and narrow, with very
narrow sidewalks. They are swept and lighted in an
unusual way. Each house owner is obliged to keep the
street before his dwelling clean, and to show a burning
candle at night. If he fails to do this, he is fined forty
cents. In the central plaza, kerosene lamps are burned
at the expense of the city.

The honses are painted white, with red roofs. They
are low, and have little balconies projecting over the
sidewalks. Does that remind you of any city we have
lately visited? Yes, you are right. It is Lima.

Of course Quito has a large cathedral occupying one
side of. the plaza. It is more quaint than handsome.
Its dome is covered with green tiles, and its doors are
decorated with carvings and huge metal bosses, or pro-
jecting knobs.

The women can best be seen in the cathedral while
morning mass is being celebrated. Everywhere on the
stone floor are women, old and young, rich and poor,
kneeling in prayer.

The young girls are quite short. They are dressed in
red and blue dresses, black stockings, and black kid
slippers with metal soles. The older women are dressed
entirely in black. They wear neither gloves nor bon-
nets to church; but, instead, they wrap their heads and
shoulders in mantillas. These are often of very rich

EOPL.E.

has s.vept the snow.

green and velvety
edgerows which sep-
ook of the scenery.
d narrow, with very
t and lighted in an
s obliged to keep the
d to show a burning
this, he is fined forty
ne lamps are burned

ith red roofs. They
projecting over the
of any city we have
It is Lima.
redyal occupying one
int than handsome.
es, and its doors are
metal bosses, or pro-

the cathedral while
Everywhere on the
yung, rich and poor,

They are dressed in
ings, and black kid
+r women are dressed
ther gloves nor bon-
wrap their heads and
e often of very rich

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 807

lace, handsomely embroidered or trimmed with silk and
jet. The women have dark eyes, and beautiful dark
hair, and nearly all of them look enchanting in their
mantillas.

A housewife carries quite a load. She has a prayer
book, a prayer stool or cushion, and, last bat not least,
the house key. As this weighs a pound, it is no small
burden.

The dress of the men of Quito is so sombre and dig-
nified as to be almost funny. It consists of a long, black
frock coat, a tall, black silk hat, black kid gloves, and
an ornamental cane. Their model is the European
gentleman; but with their flashing black eyes, dark,
pointed beards, and heavy cape overcoats, they hardly
seem like either Englishmen or Frenchmen.

It is interesting to visit the market place, and see the
display of grains, vegetables, and fruits. Here are
wheat, barley, maize, beans, potatoes, oranges, and
guavas. The market men are Indians in bright pon-
chos, who squat on the ground and offer their goods by
the handful or basketful. Ounces and pounds, or their
corresponding Spanish weights, are unknown in_ the
market.

Quito is one of the chief religious centres of South
America. Bells are ringing all day from the towers of
the many churches and cathedrals, and priests and monks,
passing through the narrow streets, pause to bless the
kneeling people.

If the church bells made the only sound in the city,
the traveler might endure it; but when to their jan-
glinig, the braying of military bands, and the calling of

SN a

Se nb np AP Spann Mente BRIE ET

308 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

~-2- oo

bugles are added, pandemonium is the result. With
aching head, the traveler shakes off the dust of noisy
Quito, and hies him northward to Colombia.

The Republic of Colombia occupies the northwestern
corner of South America. It includes the Isthmus of
Panama and the two seaports, Aspinwall and Panama.
But these towns seem to belong to all the nations of the
world, rather than to Colombia. The ports which are,
as the children say, “its very own,” are Cartagena and
Barranquilla.

Both of these cities lie upon the Caribbean Sea. Car-
tagena is very old, and Barranquilla quite new. Carta-
gena, and La Guayra in Venezuela were the ports from
which all the wealth of the hills was transported to
Spain. Millions of dollars worth of gold and silver
were brought from the mountains of the interior, down
the Magdalena River to Cartagena. —

The king of Spain was desirous of keeping his treas-
ure safe from the many pirates and robbers of the Carib-
bean Sea, and so he built a great wall around the city.
The wall was so strongly built that it is standing at the
present day, as firm as ever. It is of dark stone, is
twenty feet high, and is so broad that forty horses could
walk abreast upon it.

Cartagena stands on the eastern side of a large arm
of the sea. During the greater part of this century it
has declined in commercial importance, because the
nearer entrance to its harbor has been choked up.

As Cartagena declined, Barranquilla grew in impor-
tance. Barranquilla is situated at the mouth of the
Magdalena River. It was well placed for commerce,

OPLE.

. the result. With
the dust of noisy
olombia.

es the northwestern
ides the Isthmus of
nwall and Panama.
ll the nations of the
he ports which are,
are Cartagena and

‘’uribbean Sea. Car-
quite new. Carta-
were the ports from
was transported to
of gold and silver
the interior, down

f keeping his treas-
‘obbers of the Carib-
ull around the city.
it is standing at the
is of dark stone, is
it forty horses could

side of a large arm
't of this century it
rtance, because the
on choked up.

uilla grew in impor-
the mouth of the
aced for commerce,

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 809

and offered a fine harbor for ships. Cartagena was well-
nigh deserted for a while.

But by and by a great sand bar was formed at the
mouth of the Magdalena River, opposite Barranquilla.
So its day was over. It was obliged to build a small
town on the sand bar itself, where passengers and goods
could be landed.

Within the last few years the old town of Cartagena
has revived in importance. The obstacles to its trade
have been removed, and once more it looks forward to
prosperity in the near future.

Viewed from the sea, Cartagena is a pretty town, with
its gray walls, yellow buildings, and near hills green
with cocoa palms. The traveler will enjoy visiting
many of the old buildings and subterranean passages of
Spanish times, although his sentiment may be somewhat
shocked to find palaces turned into tenement houses,
and the Inquisition building become a tobacco factory.

Bogota, the capital of Coiombia, is situated in the
interior of the state, hundreds of miles from any other
important city. It is indeed far from the centres of
news and trade, as it is seven hundred and fifty miles
from the seacoast, and four days’ journey from the
Magdalena River.

The usual way of reaching Bogota is by sailing up
the Magdalena, and then following the trail to Bogota
on mules.

The Magdalena is the chief river of Colombia. Its
water is yellow, like that of the Mississippi, owing, as
you know, to the large amount of earthy matter that it
carries on its way to the sea. Often this earthy matter

ee ty RCSA PT

or EMIT

pitcneselincensanttesbee

sede: HART TTR SELS ONESIES TIT

810 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

is deposited, and sand bars are formed in many places
which choke up the course of the river.

During the dry season, navigation is impossible at
night. The ‘boatman is forced to anchor near the shore.
But in the rainy season, when the river is swollen so
that it floods the whole country and buries deep the
troublesome sand bars beneath its foaming flood, steam-
ers can, if there is a full moon, continue their course by
night.

In ascending the Magdalena, its shores are lined with
swamps for the first two hundred miles; next, come
three hundred miles of low, alluvial plains, where the
old plantations once flourished. They formerly yielded
the country considerable profit; but when the slaves
were freed, the plantations fell into decay.

The shores of the lower Magdalena are lined on both
sides with alligators. There they lie, basking in the
sun, in ranks so close that it seems possible to walk
upon them for miles simply by stepping from back to
back.

After the steamboat trip comes the mule ride, over
the trail, up among the Andes. The trail is laid out
in a very eccentric fashion. It makes sudden curves
when there is no need for curves, and then again darts
point blank up and over a steep mountain that might as
well have been ascended on an easier slope. Some of
the road consists of steep stone steps cut in the side of
the mountain at an angle of thirty-five degrees. Up
these steps the patient mules toil laboriously.

Through many climes and vegetations the traveler
struggles, until at length he reaches his goal, the city

EOPLE.

med in many places
ver.

on is impossible at
ichor near the shore.
» river is swollen so
und buries deep the
oaming flood, steam-
tinue their course by

shores are lined with
miles; next, come
jal plains, where the
hey formerly yielded
ut when the slaves
decay.
na are lined on both
’ lie, basking in the
ms possible to walk
pping from back to

the mule ride, over
‘he trail is laid out
kes sudden curves
nd then again darts
untain that might as
sier slope. Some of
eps cut in the side of
ty-five degrees. Up
boriously.

tations the traveler
1es his goal, the city

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 311

2-8

of Bogota, “half a mile nearer the stars than the top of
Mt. Washington.” In all directions over the wide plain
on which Bogota is situated, are extensive views of
mountains and lakes.

The architecture of Bogota, with the narrow paved
streets sloping towards the central gutter, and the adobe
houses of one, two, or three stories with shops upon the
lowest floor, we are familiar with by this time. Plain
as many of the buildings appear upon the outside, yet
the furniture within is often surprisingly good.

Many of the houses have pianos, — pianos that have
been brought over the trail for long distances on men’s
backs. How much do you suppose it costs to bring one
from the coast to Bogota? One thousand dollars. And
yet pianos are very plentiful here.

Horse cars imported from Philadelphia are used in the
streets. They are brought from the coast in sections,
which are carried over the mountains on the backs of
Indians. A car wheel forms quite a load for one In-
dian; and he is so lazy and stops to rest and sleep so
often during the day, that it is frequently a month
before the wheel appears in Bogota.

Owing to such delays, it is some time before all the
fractions of the car arrive; but when once the street
car is set up it becomes a very popular means of con-
veyance. The fare is ten cents, and the cars are filled
daily with dark gentlemen in white clothes and white
straw hats, smoking cigarettes as they. ride to their
places of business.

Sunday is the gala day of the week. After attending
mass in the morning, the people give themselves up to

&
|
Fi
‘

HSE ALT NN NT NOT OEE AL OLE GE SATE TS

2 A A RN RIE NATO Ee ROE AE SOI ana i a a

812 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

enjoyment for the remainder of the day. They attend
the market, the theatre, or the bull fights, or promenade
in the plaza and watch their children flying kites.

The people of Colombia, like all the South Ameri-
cans, have a great admiration for the United States.
They even go so far as to celebrate our Washington's
Birthday and Fourth of July.

The Isthmus of Panama is the narrowest part of the
Western Continent. Vessels that sailed from Boston
and New York to the gold coast of California in 1849
went around Cape Horn. That was the time when it
was first proposed to cut a canal across the narrow part
of the American Continent. Three different routes
were suggested, —one across Mexico, a second across
Nicaragua, and a third across Colombia at the Isthmus
of Panama.

When the Suez Canal, connecting the Red and the
Mediterranean Seas, was built by M. Lesseps, and the
route to India was much shortened thereby, fresh inter-
est and belief in the possibility of an American canal
was aroused. Millions of dollars were raised to carry
on the work, which was entrusted to M. Lesseps.

The actual digging was begun in 1881, and Lesseps
promised that the canal should be completed in 1885.
Soon he extended the time to 1888. At the present
day nearly all the money is gone, and only one-tenth of
the canal is completed.

The Isthmus, the cities of Aspinwall and Panama,
and the stations along the route of the canal are in wild
confusion. Machinery and tools lie about in all, diree-
tions; rough dormitories for the workmen are half com-

OPLE.

day. They attend
ights, or promenade
\ flying kites.

the South Ameri-
the United States.
2 our Washington's

Trowest part of the
sailed from Boston
California in 1849
s the time when it
‘oss the narrow part
2e clifferent routes
cO, & second across
bia at the Isthmus

g the Red and the
MI. Lesseps, and the
thereby, fresh inter-
an American canal
ere raised to carry
M. Lesseps.

. 1881, and Lesseps
completed in 1885.
8. At the present
d only one-tenth of

wall and Panama,
1e canal are in wild
about in all direc-
kmen are half com-

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 8138

coe

pleted; and thousands of men of nearly every race and
tongue throng the Isthmus.

The whole scheme has broken down. At the rate
that the work has been progressing it will take over one
hundred years to finish it. It will cost one billion dol-
lurs and the question is, whether the canal will pay for
the immense expense of money, labor, and life. The
region is unhealthy, and many of the workmen coming
from the West Indies die at once. The African race
endures the climate best.

Aspinwall is a town built upon a small, low island on
the Atlantic coast. It is connected with Panama on the
Pacific coast by a railroad.

The canal across the isthmus is the most gigantic fail-
ure of the nineteenth century. Whether it will be one
of the gigantic achievements of the twentieth century,
time will show, In the meanwhile, an American com-
pany has begun the proposed canal by way of Lake Nic-
aragua, and, at the rate their work is progressing now,
they seem in a fair way toward success.

CHAPTER XXIV.
VENEZUELA AND GUIANA.

We have now reached the last state in South America
that was settled by the Spaniards. This is Venezuela.
The word Venezuela is the Spanish for “little Venice.”
How do you suppose Venezuela came by its name?

314 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

There is, on the northern coast, a large lake called
Lake Maracaybo. It is perhaps more of a marsh than a
lake, and houses are built in it, supported on piles driven
into the bed of the lake. The water channels running
between the lines of houses, reminded some imaginative
person of Venice and its water avenues, and so the state
was dubbed Venezuela.

Venezuela may be divided into three regions, — the
coast, the mountains, and the plains of the Orinoco.
The mountains raise their brown, barren summits so near
the sea that the coast is but a narrow strip of marshes
and swamps.

The mangrove is a most curious tree, which shoots off
branches to the right and left that curve down to the
ground and take root. This tree grows thickly through-
out the swamps. Wherever the mangrove tree thrives,
there is the home of fevers. And, in fact, these swamps
on the coast of Venezuela form one of the most un-
healthy regions in all South America.

The ranges of the Andes that run across the country
to the south of the Caribbean Sea, are only one-half as
high as the lofty ranges in Peru and Bolivia.

South of the mountains lies the valley of the Orinoco.
It consists of a perfectly flat stretch of country, as large
as the New England States with New York and Penn-
sylvania added. It is covered with strong, tall grass,
and only here and there by the streams are there any
trees whatever. These few trees are tall peims, which
wave their great fan like leaves dreamily in the breeze.

In the dry season the sun shines upon the grass until
it becomes a dry powder, which is blown about by the

EOPLE.

wv large lake called
re of w marsh than a
orted on piles driven
vv Channels running
xd some imaginative
ues, and so the state

three regions, — the
ins of the Orinoco.
rren summits so near
ow strip of murshes

tree, Which shoots off
curve down to the
ows thickly through-
ngrove tree thrives,
n fact, these swamps
ne of the most un-
a.

1 across the country
are only one-half as
1 Bolivia.

alley of the Orinoco.
of country, as large
few York and Penn-
h strong, tall grass,
reams are there any
re tall peims, which
eamily in the breeze.
upon the grass until
blown about by the

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 815

—---o—

wind. Clouds of dust whirl in all directions. The
streams dry up, and many of the poor cattle and horses
of these plains die of thirst.

Then, as the heat and dust are at their worst, there
comes a blessed change. Clouds gather in the sky ;
soon the rain begins to fall, the brooks to gurgle, and
the fresh grass to grow. Then, for a time, the wild
creatures are happy indeed.

But, as the weeks go by, the streams leave their
channels and overflow the whole country. Presently
there are several feet of water flooding the plain. ‘There
is, at one place, an elevation of a few feet in the plain,
which forms the watershed between the Orinoco and
the streams flowing to the northwest. The cattle and
horses which have taken refuge on this slight rise are
safe, but those which have not are drowned. At one
season of the year the poor beasts have too much water,
and at another season too little.

After the Amazon and the La Plata, the Orinoco is
the largest river in South America. You must trace its
course on the map, and picture to yourselves the many
streams that come dancing down the eastern slopes of
the Andes to unite and flow across the level, grassy
plains to the marshy coast and the open sea.

The earthy matter that the Orinoco carries along with
it chokes its mouth, and so a delta is formed there.
The main stream, through which alone the large vessels
can pass, is the southernmost channel. ‘Boats that do
not sink more than ten feet deep in the water can use
the upper channels. The delta is covered with thick
forests, something like those of the Amazon. The trees

jseaarnmeenngtmennnitiueneamte

NA CES RE A TG TENE AE I

316 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

a ee

are covered, and well nigh smothered, with climbing
vines.

After the delta is passed, in ascending the Orinoco,
the trees vanish, and the lonely, monotonous upper
course of the Orinoco begins. There are very few
villages or cities on the bank, and a sailing vessel or
av boat is a very rare sight.

Sometimes at night a great column of flame and
smoke rushes across the plain, gleaming red and bril-
liant in the darkness. This is a fire which the owners
of cattle have kindled. Every year they burn the grass
in order that the next growth may be richer and better.

La Guayra, the chief seaport of Venezuela, has no
advantage of position whatever, It looks as if it were
forever sliding down the mountains into the sea. Its
bay is so open that the great ocean swells make it one
of the worst harbors on the Western Continent. Further-
more, the bed of the sea, a few hundred feet from the
shore, slopes so abruptly that anchors are of no use;
and in places where anchors do hold, the sand is apt to
shi” so that they have to be raised and their positions
adjusted every few hours.

La Guayra was crowded in here on the hillside, and
along the narrow coast, to serve as the port of Caracas,
the capital of Venezuela.

La Guayra resembles Valparaiso and Bahia in situa-
tion, although its harbor is not so good as either of
theirs. The business blocks which border the single
street are from two to three stories in height. The
houses which straggle up the barren hillsides are lower,
and have reddish brown roofs, which are the exact color
of the hills.

-OPLE.

‘red, with climbing

nding the Orinoco,
monotonous upper
‘here are very few
wv sailing vessel or

umn of flame and
ming red and. bril-
e which the owners
they burn the grass
richer and better.
Venezuela, has no
; looks as if it were
s into the sea. Its
1 swells make it one
Jontinent. Further-
idred feet from the
ors are of no use;
|, the sand is apt to
land their positions

on the hillside, and
he port of Caracas,

and Bahia in situa-
» good as either of
border the single
es in height. The
hillsides are lower,
are the exact color

m--.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS, 317

The climate of La Guayra is exceedingly hot. It is
so situated that it is sheltered from all but west winds,
which are the warmest winds that blow. Still the
climate is healthful, and the yellow fever is not more
prevalent here than elsewhere. The one great scourge
of La Guayra is fleas. Those troublesome little inseets
are everywhere; and every person, whether a native or
a foreigner, is their victiin.

There are three roads leading over the mountains to
Caracas. First, there is the old footpath; second, the
mule and wagon road; and third, the railroad, whieh
has only been established of late years, An interesting
little story is connected with the first two ways.

Over three hundred years ago when the English and
Spaniards were bitter enemies in the Old World, their
ships used to carry on war in the New. Whenever
an English cruiser fell in with a Spanish galleon curry-
ing treasures of gold and silver to Spain, she attacked
and plundered it. The English have always been a
nation of strong, fine sailors; and at this period there
was among them a wonderful company of sea captains,
so bold that they were often called sea kings.

Sir Francis Drake was the most adventurous of them
all, He was really what we should call a pirate nowa-
days; but then people thought so differently that he
seemed to the English nation one of their best and
greatest men, and all his wicked deeds seemed heroic.

It is apt to make a difference in your opinion of a
person whether he is acting for your side or against it.
One very slight excuse for the lawless acts of the Eng-
lish was that the Spaniards were acting in the same
way, whenever they got the chance.

EPO MEIN NTT TEE IAL ENT EN

ic ARSENATE

318 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

—~-o—

On account of the Spanish and English pirates, the
Caribbean Sea, or the Spanish main, as it was called,
was much dreaded by all peaceful sailors. Such terrible
battles as were frequently waged in this region! The
war spread to the mainland; and whenever they could,
the English would land and rob and burn a Spanish
town. La Guayra was often taken; but the real wealth
of Venezuela was not there, but in Caracas.

Sir Francis Drake determined to attack the latter city.
He heard that a great party of men were being fitted
out in Caracas to come and meet him. Judging cor-
rectly that they would come by the wagon road, he
secured a guide, who led him and his men by the old
Indian footpath to Caracas.

All the able-bodied Spaniards were away, marching
down the wagon road; so the capital was defenceless.
Drake’s band burned, robbed, and killed, and finally
returned by the same path to the seacoast, bearing im-
mense loads of gold. The wily Englishman was more
than a match for the Spaniards.

The usual way of going to Caracas at the present
time is by the railroad around and over the Andes.
Recall the account of the railroads in Peru, and you
will have an excellent idea of the difficulties and dan-
gers of the way. The Caribbean Sea is in sight through
most of the journey, and the views are all wide and
interesting.

Caracas is situated at the northern end of a narrow
valley. Its climate is almost perfect. Though so near
the equator, it is cool and pleasant because of its high
and breezy situation among the mountains.

(
|

=OPLE.

English pirates, the
in, as it was called,
ilors. Such terrible
1 this region! The
henever they could,
nd burn a Spanish
but the real wealth
Caracas.

ttack the latter city.
n were being fitted
him. Judging cor-
she wagon road, he
his men by the old

ere away, marching
tal was defenceless.
killed, and finally
eacoast, bearing im-
iglishmian was more

acas at the present
id over the Andes.
s in Peru, and you
difficulties and dan-
v is in sight through
s are all wide and

rm end of a narrow
t. Though so near
because of its high
tains,

— as

;
4
|
i
:

OUR AMERICaN NEIGHBORS. 319

One old Englishman, who has been a minister to many
capitals of Mexico and South America, when relieved
from his duties on account of age, preferred to make his
residence in Caracas, rather than in any English or
other Spanish American city with which he was famil-
iar. He said it was a paradise on earth, and that he
preferred to spend his last days there.

The streets of Caracas are narrow, but unusually
clean. The houses are of one story, and, what is a little
unusual, their roofs are peaked. The most attractive
part of the homes are the inner courts, which are
adorned with flowers, plants, and shrubs. The strong
odor of tuberoses is often wafted through an open door-
way out upon the street.

Caracas was the birthplace of General Bolivar, the
liberator of Spanish America. The whole city is filled
with mementoes of him. Squares and streets bear his
name. The Plaza Bolivar lies before the Yellow House,
as the home of the president is called.

This plaza has for its chief ornament a fine statue of
Bolivar riding a prancing horse. There is also a bronze
column marked with the single word “ Washington.”
The father of our country is much honored in South
America, and everywhere streets and shops bear his
name.

The Westminster Abbey of Caracas is an old cathe-
dral which has been selected for this purpose. In the
place of the altar is a magnificent monument to Bolivar.
It is of marble, and bears a life-size statue of the gen-
eral, surrounded with various figures of beautiful women,
representing plenty, justice, and other qualities. An

PS MOEN NI PT Ew

AA: SECS A AER SEATED

erage ent DARE RA Oi

Sore emma rein ne Base og

COS aahiRT RRR NT

320 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

elegant chandelier hangs over the tomb, wandelabra are
placed on each side, and near by stand a line of book
vases, containing the books of all languages which have
been written about Bolivar.

Free schools and telephones have been lately intro-
duced into Venezuela. Both the white and black races
attend school, and, so far, the blacks have shown them-
selves the quickest and the readiest to learn.

The women appreciate the telephone. It is a great
privilege to them, in their secluded lives, to be able to
do shopping, and to talk with one another over the wires.

The Venezuelans are exquisitely polite. It is almost
emburrassing to an American, used to the incivility of
the clerks of his own country, to find a storekeeper
thanking him for permission to show goods, and bowing
him out, whether he has purchased or not, with grace-
fully expressed wishes for his health and happiness.

Guiana is not independent like the other states of South
America; it is composed of the colonies of three Euro-
pean nations, — England, Holland, and France. There
are many penal settlements along the coast and upon
the neighboring islands, where European and African
convicts have been brought from time to time.

At first the convicts are under more or. less restraint.
But after two years of good behavior they are allowed
to send for their families, and are allotted a tract of
land. Thus they become settlers.

Of late years most of the French convicts have been
sent to New Caledonia, an island in the Pacific Ocean,
where the climate is better adapted to Europeans than is
that of Guiana. The African convicts are stil! sent here.

OPLE.

mb, candelabra are
uid a line of book
guages which have

» been lately intro-
lite and black races
have shown them-
oO learn.

one. It is a great
lives, to be able to
ther over the wires.
olite. It is almost
to the incivility of
find a storekeeper
goods, and bowing
opr not, with grace-
and happiness.
ther states of South
lies of three Euro-
nd France. There
he coast and upon
ypean and African
2 to time.

e or. less restraint.
r they are allowed
allotted a tract of

convicts have been
the Pacific Ocean,
» Europeans than is
sare still sent here.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 321

From the very nature of the several colonies, it fol-
lows that men of all colors, nations, and tongues are
found in Guiana. English, French, Dutch, German,
Portuguese, Italian, Chinese, negroes, natives of Pales-
tine, of India, of the West Indies, and of the Azores,
all may be seen in the streets of Georgetown and Cay-
enne. There have been also very many Hindoos here
since the freeing of the slaves. Laborers have been
difficult to hire, and the Hindoos have come to satisfy
the demand. So it is not an unusual sight to see a
great East Indiaman, carrying hundreds of coolies,
entering Georgetown harbor.

The coast of Guiana presents a great contrast to that
of Venezuela; because, instead of shelving abruptly
down, it slopes away so gradually into the ocean that
the whole shore is lined by sand banks and marshes.

The country is very dat. It is almost like another
Holland. It has to be protected from the sea and the
rivers in many places by dikes; and tall palms and the
chimneys of sugar manufactories tower above the flat
surface of the country, as the lofty windmills do on the
level meadows of Holland. Indeed, both Paramaribo,
the capital of Dutch Guiana, and Georgetown, which
was orce owned by the Hollanders, resemble the Dutch
cities in many ways.

The streets are prim and clean, and have canals run-
ning through them. The hcuses are placed with their
gable ends toward the street, are painted white, and
have peaked roofs and queer little dormer windows.

Georgetown is situted at the mouth of the Demarara
River, close by the sea. The climate is so moist and

i
|

Amr macnn EL SAE TRENT PEARL EPO TED LN AIOE OTL LL ME SOREL LOE TL LOI DS AS

322 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

_—-so

hot that it seems as if one were in a perpetual Turkish
bath. The Europeans wear the thinnest clothing, and
live through the hot day in the hopes of a cool breeze
at evening. . Ice is imported from the United States.
It is a great luxury, and costs two cents a pound.

One of the most charming walks in Georgetown is
along the sea wall. This is a broad dike separating the
city from the sea. It is wide enough for seats to be
placed upon it, and long enough to serve as a delightful
promenade. <A carriage road closely follows the sea
wall, and, at one point in the driveway, a band plays on
certain days in the week.

No one who has not lived through an intense tropical
day can realize how refreshing the evening breeze seems,
how beautiful the stars look, or how soothing the music
sounds to the European who is forced to stav day after
day in a climate so unnatural to him. |

One celebrated botanical curiosity can be seen near
Georgetown. In an unused canal east of the capital
grows the immense, rose-colored lily, called the Victoria
regia. Its blossom is two feet across. Its leaf is four
feet in diameter, and can support an Indian baby laid
upon it.

Sugar, rum, and molasses are the chief products of
Guiana. Its coasts and rivers are bordered with sugar
plantations, which, being situated in the lowest part of
the country, are generally surrounded by. dikes. A
plantation forms a small kingdom by itself. It is not
so very small a kingdom either; for it frequently con-
tains as many as two thousand acres, which are tilled.
by vwelve hundred laborers.

EOPLE.

a perpetual Turkish
innest clothing, and
pes of a cool breeze
the United States.
‘ents a pound.

s in Georgetown is
dike separating the
ugh for seats to be
serve as a delightful
ely follows the sea
yay, a band plays on

1 an intense tropical
vening breeze seems,
soothing the music
od to stay day after
.

ty can be seen near
east of the capital
, called the Victoria
ss. Its leaf is four

un Indian baby laid

e chief products of
ordered with sugar
1 the lowest part of
ided by. dikes. A
by itself. It is not
r it frequently con-
es, which are tilled.

OUR AMERICAN NEIGHBORS. 823

_—so

Paramaribo, the capital of Dutch Guiana, is situated
ten miles from the mouth of one of the many turbid
streams of this province. It is a silent, sleepy place,
that in some ways calls to mind Amsterdam or Leyden.

The houses have high pitched roofs covered with
tiles, dormer windows, and old-fashioned Dutch stoops,
or porches, at the sides of the houses, where the family
can gather to enjoy the refreshing breeze of the evening.
The doors are painted green, and have bright brass
knockers.

The streets are quiet. There are no rattling horse
cars, and but few hackney coach stands. A silent canal
flows through the centre of the street; there are no
sidewalks, and the road is paved with sand and bits of
shells, which glitter dazzlingly in the brilliant sunshine.

We might believe we were in dear old Holland, if it
were not for the dense, tropical forest of waving cabbage
and cocoa palms across the river, and the negroes in
their cool, white clothes. The negro women carry great
piles of dishes or jars upon their heads, with as much
graceful ease as do the Indian women.

Yayenne, the capital of French Guiana, is built upon
an island, only fifteen feet above the level of the sea.
The houses are scarcely visible from the ocean on ac-
count of the many shade trees of the city.

The glory of Cayenne is Cabbage Palm Square. This
is a group of palm trees, rivaling in grandeur and beauty
Palm Tree Avenue in the Botanical Gardens of Rio
Janeiro. There are five hundred palms of an average
heigit of eighty feet. They are planted in eight rows,
about twenty feet apart. With their upright, straight

a
aan eacToERE
BEARERS A IE IRD IS HONE EON BI _— 4
meme NRA a IR RARER ME = E 2

=
i —— = =
pie opener as ree Te EES ABN PIPES SERN 3
pesca I, pee a ae a aR aD ete aR RES SSE tle eRe taht etter nme naeeyatnr nn amen

cin mena rns AEN

3824 THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE.

— oo

trunks, they look like the regular pillars in some great
hall, such as the temple of Karnac at Thebes. Each
trunk is surmounted by a perfect crown of leaves.

There is one tree which is the great curiosity of the
square. It is a double palm tree. At about twenty
feet from the ground the trunk divides, and two per-
fectly healthy shafts rise sixty feet in the air; each is
topped by a fine crown. The tree is the wonder of all
who see it.

Whether whirling over the city streets, or perching in
these palm trees, the vulture is the commonest object
in the streets of Cayenne, unless we except the French
soldier, who, in blue coat and white hat, daily fills the
city with life and merriment.

In the interior of Guiana some gold has been found,
and now that machinery has been introduced, the people
are beginning to mine in earnest. No one can tell what
buried wealth may be hidden in the unknown central
districts. Perhaps there may be as much as ever Sir
Francis Drake and other Englishmen took from the
Spaniards in those fierce conflicts in the Spanish main.
Who knows? We must wait and see.

PEOPLE.

pillars in some great
vc at Thebes. Each
rown of leaves.

sreat curiosity of the
» At about twenty
ivides, and two per-
in the air; each is
is the wonder of all

reets, or perching in
le commonest object
2 except the French
e hat, daily fills the

Id has been found,
troduced, the people
Vo one can tell what
e unknown central
s much as ever Sir
1en took from the
the Spanish main.
e.

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